Quietly Into the Night
by Sadie Elfgirl
Summary: Aragorn, Legolas, and the twins travel to the prince's home but run into trouble along the way. Now Aragorn and Legolas have been captured and Mirkwood is in danger...
1. Awakenings

**Summary- Aragorn, Legolas and the twins travel to the prince's home, but run into trouble along the way. Now Aragorn and Legolas have been captured and Mirkwood is in danger…**

**Disclaimer- I will never own Lord of the Rings, Legolas, Aragorn, the twins…I better stop before I get depressed. Anyway, no income is being received for this.**

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" Aragorn!"

Legolas struggled wildly against the black clawed hands holding him.

The orcs restraining the elf merely laughed cruelly and tightened their already painful hold.

Legolas gasped and bit his lip as pain from his wounded arm seared across him in bright waves. He gasped again as one of is captors deliberately dug a twisted claw into the open gash.

He couldn't cry out…couldn't let them know his pain… they would only feed on it; relish it…

A cry of anguish echoed in the dim cave.

He couldn't see the one whom the orcs tormented, but he didn't have to. The wood elf knew that voice very well.

An answering cry ripped from the prince's throat as he strained against the jeering orcs.

" ARAGORN!"

-----------

1 week earlier

---------------

A drop of water splashed on Legolas' cheek, waking him from a deep sleep.

The Mirkwood prince groaned and rolled over onto his side, throwing an arm over his face. Rain. Just what he wanted. Nothing was more uncomfortable than sleeping outside in rain.

Another drop tickled his pointed ear.

Wait…

Two more drops slid into his golden hair.

He wasn't outside.

With a most un-elflike yelp he tried to roll clear of the enemy he now sensed poised above him…

Too late.

There was a splash.

Legolas glared upwards at his friend from his soaked bedding. The man's face was twitching with the effort of concealing his mirth.

In his hands rested the basin Legolas normally used for washing up. It was large, holding over three gallons of water when filled.

It had been full when Legolas went to sleep.

Now it was quite empty.

Aragorn, son of Arathorn, adopted son of Elrond, chief of the Dunedein, heir of Isildur stood over his wet friend, a grin like an addled duck spread across his features.

" So much," The human said in a tone strangled by suppressed laughter, " for the legendary reflexes of the elves."

The words were barely out of his mouth when Legolas clobbered him with the drenched pillow. " Out!"

Aragorn scrambled back from the bed, laughing heartily.

"Fiend!" Legolas kicked off his sodden covers and swung his feet over the side of his bed, intending to give chase. Unfortunately, Aragorn had already made it to the door. "Coward!" Legolas shouted at the ranger's back, laughter beginning to twinkle in his eyes.

The young ranger pushed his head back into the room "Lego-lost."

The soaking pillow caught Isildur's heir full in the face with a damp sounding 'squish'.

" Little ORC!" Legolas leapt from his bed towards his friend even as Aragorn beat a hasty retreat.

Laughter floated through the rooms of the last homely house, alerting all who dwelt there of the famous pair's awakening.

Legolas gained ground quickly on his friend, partly due to the fact that Aragorn was laughing so hard he was coming up short on breath. The elf leapt into a spectacular flying tackle, catching Aragorn around the knees and sending them both sliding down the hall.

"Mercy," Aragorn gasped between his chuckles. He lay, panting heavily as he tried to regain his breath.

"Oh, no." Legolas' blue eyes had a decidedly vengeful gleam in their depths. "Mercy is an unknown concept to the elves, especially when their honor has been slighted. And," he held up a hand and curled it into a menacing claw-like position. "When they know the enemy's one, true weakness."

Aragorn stared at his friend, horrified. " You wouldn't!" He couldn't comprehend the elven prince doing something so …diabolical.

" Oh," the fair elf's evil grin widened. " Oh but I would."

The young human desperately tried to roll away, but the hand was to quick. It caught below the ranger's ribs and…tickled.

" Stop…stop…stop!" Aragorn gasped as he tried to squirm away from the tickling hands.

" Never!" Legolas cried gleefully as he increased his attack.

A loud cough startled both of them.

Slowly, two pairs of eyes, one blue, one silver turned upwards.

Lord Elrond Peredhil of Imladris looked down at them expressionlessly. Behind him stood his twin sons, Elladan and Elrohir. If Elrond's face was impassive, the twins were struggling for the same serenity. Legolas could see their lips twitch as they fought to remain serious.

"My lord Elrond," Legolas smiled weakly up at the Lord of Rivendell. "What a surprise."

Aragorn swallowed hard, his face turning a very bright red.

Quickly, Legolas pushed himself to his feet, drawing his friend up at the same time.

" Ada," the young human managed. " Good morning."

Elrond's eyebrow nearly disappeared into this hairline as he gazed at the two young ones before him. "Good morning, Estel." He nodded at the Mirkwood prince. "Legolas." He grey eyes surveyed them coolly, and for a brief second, Legolas swore he saw a muscle at the corner of the older elf's mouth quiver. " I must admit," he continued, "I am surprised to see you both awake and so…active this early." (Elrohir turned a snort of laughter into a hacking cough.) "Especially considering what time you returned last night." His gaze flickered over Legolas' still dripping form, then fastened on his youngest son. "Perhaps I should not be so surprised after all."

Without another word he turned and walked down the hall, a grin spreading over his features.

As soon as their father was out of sight, the twins relaxed their control.

Many minutes later, (wiping their streaming eyes and picking themselves up off the floor) they reestablished it.

"How nice," Aragorn kept his voice bland. "We have provided my brothers ample entertainment." He sighed deeply and pulled Elrohir to his feet.

"Wonderful to be appreciated," Legolas added sarcastically, watching Elladan wipe away his tears of mirth.

"So…hee hee…what happened to you two last night?" Elrohir finally managed.

"Yes," Elladan pulled himself together with an effort. "Why did you get back so late?"

Legolas muttered something unintelligible and became very interested in the tiles underneath his bare feet.

"We got back so late," Aragorn grinned, "Because the esteemed crowned prince of Mirkwood got _lost_."

Twin expressions of disbelief flitted across the young elf lords faces, quickly replaced by more mirth.

"_Lost_?" Elrohir tried to continue but choked on his snickers.

Elladan took up the unfinished thought. "How did you manage to get _lost_?"

"I was not lost," Legolas grumbled. " I simply did not know the way back."

Aragorn casually flipped his hair behind his ear. "He did not know the way back, yet he chose to comment on my _obviously_ inferior methods of tracking and sense of direction."

"So," Elrohir picked up the tale as if he had been present. " You let the heir to the Mirkwood throne choose the path back to Imladris…"

" In order to display his obviously superior methods of tracking and impeccable sense of direction…" Elladan continued.

"While you stood back and laughed into your sleeve," they finished together, now wearing identical evil grins.

"That would be accurate," the ranger said with a grin. He cast a glance at his friend and the grin widened. "Why Legolas," he commented, as a well practiced look of innocence slid across his features. "I did not know elven ears could _turn_ that color…"

Shouts of laughter mixed with some rather imaginative dwarven curses echoed through the halls of Lord Elrond's home.

------------

The laughter echoed through the passages of Legolas' mind, transcending the feverish pain that spread through his body.

His eyelids flickered rapidly. Why had the memory of that laughter come back to him now? Why here?

This was not a place for laughter…at least, not good laughter. There _was_ laughter, but it was cruel, evil, and twisted.

A shudder coursed through his body. Was it cold or the fever that shook him? He could no longer tell the difference.

A cold voice hissed nearby; the black speech that flowed from it's tongue caused Legolas to shudder anew. "Aragorn," he whispered softly, not even realizing that his lips were moving.

It was a soft plea. The loudest cry for help his captors could wring from him.

Where was his friend?

0-0-0-0

_Ada- Father(daddy)_

_0-0-0-0_


	2. Enemies

The two young ones stood before Elrond, eyes downcast.

"I'm disappointed in both of you," the lord of Rivendell's voice was stern. " Legolas, it was foolish of you to taunt Estel. Estel, I cannot believe you would be so foolhardy as to _intentionally_ allow Legolas to choose the _wrong_ way home!"

Aragorn grimaced. " Sorry, _Ada_." Beside him, Legolas also murmured words of apology.

"At least _this_ time neither of you appeared with any broken limbs…"

Aragorn and Legolas exchanged a look.

"Cracked heads…"

They had heard this before. Many, many times in fact.

"Or poisoned wounds." The elder elf raised an eyebrow. "But then again the day is young."

The two shifted uncomfortably.

Lord Elrond leaned back in his chair "The two of you," he remarked dryly, "are like flint and tinder."

Legolas relaxed slightly, but Aragorn knew his father too well for that…

"In a storeroom of dried hay."

Legolas winced slightly, but Aragorn grinned. He knew his father well enough to see the flickering of humor in those grey eyes.

" That is why," Elrond continued, " I am considerably pleased to have received this," He withdrew a letter from the sleeve of his robe and handed it to the Mirkwood prince."It arrived this morning."

Legolas took the letter and opened it, his blue eyes scanning the parchment quickly. His face fell. "It's from my father," he said unhappily, answering Aragorn's unspoken question. "He wants me to return home…" the young elf's eyes traveled down the rest of the paper. He froze. Blinking rapidly, he reread a certain section. A grin pulled at the corners of his mouth. "And he invites all three of Lord Elrond's sons to come and visit Mirkwood!"

Aragorn's eyes widened. "Eru," he breathed.

0-0-0-0

"Was he drunk?" Elrohir asked bluntly.

Legolas opened his mouth to protest, then shut it. It was a most logical explanation for his father's sudden extension of hospitality. " Possibly," the prince finally conceded.

"Whatever the reason," Elladan said with a grin. "I believe we will take him up on his offer."

"_Ada_ is preparing our provisions even now," Aragorn said eagerly. "We should be able to leave by tomorrow morning." His silver eyes seemed to glow from a source deep within; lighting with the promise of the journey…

0-0-0-0

The light was gone…he could not find it. Only the memory was left to him…Legolas' blue eyes rolled back in his head as his lithe form shuddered convulsively.

A black clawed hand roughly grabbed the back of the prince's head, entwining its gnarled fingers in the golden tresses. "Elf scum," a harsh voice whispered as the hand jerked Legolas painfully.

The elf prince hissed through his teeth as another hand grabbed his chin, forcing his head up to meet the orc's yellow glare. In his nearly delirious state, the fair prince watched the hideous face before him twist and spin. He tried to turn away from the disorienting sight, but his captor would have none of it.

"Don't like what you see?" he jeered nastily, his broken nails digging into the smooth skin of Legolas' cheek. "Better get used to it, little elf." The orc released Legolas' chin, drawing his hand back to strike…

0-0-0-0

Elrohir silently drew an arrow from his quiver. Carefully, ever so carefully, the dark-haired elf laid the smooth shaft along his bow and sighted down its' length.

It was perfect…. His quarry was completely unsuspecting….

Elladan glanced at his brother, then realized where the younger twin was aiming. He drew a deep sigh and laid a restraining hand on Elrohir's arm. "I would not, if I were you."

Elrohir cast him a pleading look, grey eyes wide. "Please?"

The older twin shook his head in regret. "Lord Thranduil would not thank you for shooting his heir."

"What if I only wounded him?"

Elladan considered for a moment, but shook his head again. "No. Then we would be dragging a wounded Legolas all the way back to Mirkwood."

Elrohir shuddered. "You are right. That would be a deeply unpleasant undertaking." He shifted slightly; redirecting his arrow.

Elladan actually chuckled, but gripped his twin's arm a second time. "_Ada_ will not thank you either."

" Consider, _gwanor nin_, we are far from Imladris. I can hide the body, and no one will ever know…"

" Until we return, at which point _Ada_ will want to know what we have done with the hope of men."

"I hear Mirkwood is an exceptionally lovely place to dwell, despite the fact that our woodland kin live in _caves_." The last word was spoken loudly as Elrohir grudgingly lowered his bow, meant to carry into the small clearing where Aragorn and Legolas sat talking.

Legolas looked up with a scowl, catching the slight to his home, and realizing for the first time that the brothers were near. "We do not live in caves, Noldor elf."

"Of course not," said elf returned smoothly as he placed his arrow back in his quiver.

Aragorn cocked an eyebrow at his brother, his features curious. "What were you hunting just now?"

"Swine," the younger twin said completely seriously as he and his brother strode forward to join the two. "They often travel through these woods." He cast a dark withering glance at the pair before him. Three days away from Rivendell, and already they were behaving like infants. His grey eyes darkened considerably. They had stuffed his pack full of rocks. Rocks! Oh, and not only rocks. Sand as well. Which had then gotten into _every_ spare tunic he had brought….which meant he had to pause to wash them out….and while he had been washing them out, the irrepressible duo had hidden his daggers….a small growl forced its way through the elf's clenched teeth. By the Valar he would have his revenge….

Elladan grinned broadly at his twin, as if sensing his thoughts. He could see the humor in this situation, even if it eluded Elrohir. He actually thought it _very_ amusing. After all, it was not as if the fair prince and his youngest brother had singled _him_ out for their jokes….not yet, anyway.

Legolas glanced at his human companion with a puzzled look. 'Swine?' he mouthed. The ranger merely shook his head, his dark hair swinging around his face. 'Don't ask' he mouthed back with a smile. He knew his brother well enough that he could guess the twin's actual meaning.

Elrohir stalked to his horse and quickly leapt up onto its back. "We had best continue on if we want to get into the Misty Mountains tonight. Of course," here he shot a very malicious look at his human brother and the golden prince. " Had someone not seen fit to fill my pack with rocks and sand, and then hide my weapons we could have already reached our stopping point."

"True," Aragorn sighed in what appeared to be heartfelt remorse. Elrohir snorted disdainfully. "However," the human continued, his silver eyes twinkling, "we would then have not been able to witness one of the finest expressions of outrage I have ever seen." The young ranger grinned as his older brother's pointed ears turned a rather unbecoming shade of pink. He opened his mouth to needle the elf further, but shut it with a snap as he hear Elrohir mutter something that sounded very much like, '_Dhagathon le as sen, Dunadan,_'

Apparently, Legolas and Elladan heard the same thing, judging by the grins that threatened to split their faces from ear to ear. "Elrohir," Elladan chided as he swung himself onto his own horse. "How could you say such a thing to our younger brother?"

Elrohir snorted once more and cast a glance back at Legolas and Aragorn as the two swiftly mounted. "Very, _very_ easily. I assure you." The younger twin raised his voice, calling back to the human and the prince. "Don't think I will forget this you two." A vicious smile spread across the elf's face as he urged his horse forward. Oh….Revenge for this would be so sweet.

0-0-0-0

Orchbeck opened his eyes and snarled softly. Curse the horrible light! The orc captain pushed himself to his feet and glared about him. His army lay mostly asleep, sprawled across the small copse of trees; the only cover they had been able to find before dawn had overtaken them. The sun was disgusting. He could not understand how men and elves relied on it so heavily. The thought of elves brought the twisted creature back to his current problem, and the reason he and his army were exposed to the filthy rays of light that beat down upon them.

Curse the elves! Mirkwood had been so perfect….a place of darkness, where evil reigned in the depths of the shadows. There had been no sun….nothing could penetrate the heavy network of branches. Not in the heart of the forest at any length. If it had not been for those elves….! Orchbeck snarled a little more nastily. They had been driven out. Forced to flee from the shadow into the brightness of the wretched orb overhead. Driven out by the elves….the orc leered nastily as he remembered the futile battles. He had lost many of his company, and the elves had lost few. Led by their golden king, the elves had pursued Orchbeck and his host until they had been forced to abandon the cover of Mirkwood's trees.

The sun sank slowly in the sky and the orc captain strode among his army, kicking them awake. It was time to be moving again. His yellow eyes lingered on the looming humps of the misty mountains and he smiled. Mountains meant caves. Caves meant no more sun. They would be able to tunnel into the very roots of those mountains….until the moment they grew strong enough to return.

As the sun disappeared behind the mountains, the orcs left the shelter of the trees and broke into a swift run. Orchbeck ran at the very front, his mind seething with evil resentment. Yes, they would run now, and they would hide in the cool darkness of the mountain's caves. But they would return. Orchbeck had a long memory, and he felt a thirst for revenge against the elves of Mirkwood.

The image of Mirkwood's king; strong, golden, and plunging into battle had burned itself into the orc captain's mind. He would do all he could to see that image altered. It would be beautiful, to his mind.

Mirkwood's king; weak, broken, with all hope ripped down around his pointed ears.

Oh, yes. Orchbeck increased his pace and yelled at his underlings to do the same. Oh, yes, it would be most satisfactory.

0-0-0-0

Aragorn sat at the entrance to the cave his brothers had decided to stop in, his cloak wrapped tightly around his shoulders. Spring though it was, the night was still cold, and the ranger shivered slightly. His brothers had done this on purpose. He knew it. They had made it quite clear that he would be the one to take the midnight watch, and he knew them well enough to recognize that it was part of their punishment for the tricks he and Legolas had played. He winced slightly. He would say one thing for the twins. They were incredibly loyal to one another….which meant that since Elrohir was plotting something sinister for revenge, Elladan would help most willingly.

Aragorn sighed softly and drew a little closer to the fire beside him. The warmth just wasn't seeping far enough through his cloak. As he shifted his weight, there was a sound….something like small pebbles being dislodged. Immediately, the young human leapt to his feet, his eyes straining….looking….

Nothing.

0-0-0-0

Orchbeck led his troops onward. They were downright feisty now; the darkness and the promise of taking cover that very night quickly replaced the little energy they had spent traveling. Now, if he remembered correctly, there should be a cave not very far ahead….the orc captain froze in his tracks, causing the orc behind him to almost collide.

"What's the matter?" the orc grunted, peering around his superior.

"There's a light in the cave," Orchbeck sneered back. "See? Someone's taking shelter there. I'll take a couple of the boys ahead and check it out. If all's clear and there's not too many of them, I'll send back one to get the rest of you." He leered unpleasantly. "Perhaps we may get a bit of sport tonight." He jerked his head back towards the large group of orcs. "Find me three. Make sure they're quick, and quiet. I don't want to be found out before I'm ready."

The orc nodded in agreement and quickly picked three of the company out.

Almost completely silently, the four orcs crept forwards, hands to their weapons.

Orchbeck breathed a soft sigh of relief when the cave was in full view. He could see quite clearly what had taken residence there and a cruel smile twisted his already ugly features. This was too good.

A small fire burned at the entrance, fed by what appeared to be a human in his early twenties. He was wrapped in a cloak, and dark hair fell around his face.

The human would have been fun enough….

Barely a few feet away from the human were three sleeping elves. Elves! Orchbeck nearly hissed in excitement, but caught himself just in time. It wouldn't do to give away their position now…. He turned towards one of the other orcs, intending to send him back to the main group. As the orc captain turned, his foot shifted, sending several small pebbles bouncing. Orchbeck froze.

The human in the cave leapt to his feet, his hand flying to his sword.

Orchbeck made a harsh cutting motion to his orcs. They were well hidden among the rocks, not even and elf could see them….but that did not mean that they could not be heard. If one of his orcs so much as breathed and that cursed human caught the sound….

One of the elves stirred in reaction to the human's movement. The fair being rose quickly from the ground and came to the side of his companion, stepping into the fire's circle of light.

Orchbeck felt his eyes bulge as he saw the elf clearly.

The elf was speaking to the human, but Orchbeck was not attending.

That face….the orc ground his teeth together hard. He _knew_ who this elf was! He had seen him before. This elf had fought against the orc horde, more accurately, he had led groups of elves against the orc horde. Orchbeck found it hardly coincidental that this elf also just _happened _to look like a younger version of the king of Mirkwood.

This was Mirkwood's prince. The son of the golden king.

Yes….his son….

The elf said something to the human and they both smiled. The prince laid a hand on the young man's shoulder, lightly shoving him back into the cave. It was obvious that the fair elf was suggesting he stay for the other, taking his place on the watch.

Orchbeck stiffened. It would be nearly impossible to sneak away with an elf on the alert, and he needed the rest of his army before he attempted to take this chance fate had so willingly placed at his feet.

The human shook his head, his dark hair swinging around his face. He patted the elf's arm reassuringly, then seated himself near the fire again. The elf said something else, then laughed lightly and returned to his sleeping spot.

The orc captain waited an hour before he risked moving back. The four orcs crept silently away until they were certain they could not be overheard, then took off at a run.

"What is it?" Orchbeck's second in command, Shaza, stood as he saw his leader and the other three return. "What did you find?"

"Elves," Orchbeck grinned maliciously. "Three elves, and a human."

Shaza laughed nastily. "Sport indeed! What are we waiting for?" There was a murmur of agreement from the group as they heard their leader's find. Gnarled fingers gripped twisted swords, and several of the creatures drew knives.

"Oh," the orc captain smiled evilly. "Oh, but there's a bonus. Do what you want with any of the others, I don't care. But the blond elf must be taken alive. Do you understand? Alive. I don't really care what condition he's in, but he needs to be able to survive the trip back to Mirkwood." Yellow eyes glared at the rabble around him. "That means if any of you have poison on your weapons, you'll get it off now, see? I'm taking no chances."

There was a pause as several orcs tore strips from their clothing and wiped their blades free from whatever venom they had smeared over the metal.

"Come on," Orchbeck said as they finished. "Quietly. I don't want them prepared any more than is necessary."

The orcs strode through the night, almost silent, their eyes glimmering with cruel delight in the light of the moon. Their leader was beside himself with glee. Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined that the instrument for his revenge would be dropped almost into his lap.

0-0-0-0

_Ada-Father(daddy)_

_Gwanor nin-my brother_

_Dhagthon le as sen, Dunadan.-I will kill you for this, Dunadan. (Dunadan means man of the West.)_

0-0-0-0


	3. Attacked!

**For anyone who has not already read this story…NASTY CLIFFIE ALERT! Heh heh heh. :) Enjoy.**

Aragorn did not hear the orcs until it was almost too late. By sheer luck, one of the unfortunate creatures became too eager and charged ahead of the rest. The young ranger gave a shout to alert the three elves, then leapt to meet his foe, his sword already gleaming in his hands.

Before the orc knew what had happened, it fell dead, a rather surprised expression still twisting his ugly features. But there were many more to replace him…

Upon hearing their younger brother's cry, the twins were almost instantly awake and on their feet, their swords flashing in the fire's bloody glow. Legolas was slightly faster, and made it Aragorn's side, his white handled knives weaving an intricate pattern through the air.

"Where did they come from!" Elladan shouted over the clash of steel. He countered the blade of an orc, twisting it to one side before stabbing the vile creature.

"I do not know!" Elrohir shoved his opponent back, then lashed out with his foot, catching the orc right below the sternum. "Nor do I care overly much at the moment!" Another orc tried to leap at the younger twin, only to meet the elf's oncoming fist. Unfortunately for the orc, it was the fist that still held the hilt of the elf's sword.

"You are right!" Elladan feinted to one side, drawing a clumsy blow from his foe. The elf neatly dodged the ill-aimed thrust and spun in a deadly circle, taking the orc's head as he did so. "We do have some rather important business for the time being."

0-0-0-0

Legolas quickly pulled one of his daggers free from an orc's neck, spinning beneath the blow of another and stabbing up into the creature's rib cage. As he fought, the golden-haired elf's confusion grew. These orcs…were not fighting as they normally did. They were treading carefully around him, engaging the prince, but obviously not intending to kill. More than once, they had tried to separate him from Aragorn; driving a large group towards them in the hope that the elf would be forced to move away from the human as he defended himself. Legolas pondered this as he almost casually smashed the hilt of his knife into a sneering face. It just didn't make sense. It would have been a little more logical if the orcs were just as obviously not trying to kill any of the group…Legolas quickly intercepted a blow that was meant for the back of Aragorn's head. No…no it was just him they wanted alive. He was almost certain of it.

0-0-0-0

Orchbeck watched the fray with a scowl twisting his face into an even more hideous image. Drat that horrible little squeaker Ralckegh! The human had heard him coming and been able to alert the others. It was just as well the nasy little scum had fallen to the ranger's sword, because he certainly wouldn't have lived after Orchbeck had gotten his hands on him!

The orc's eyes narrowed shrewdly. Their ambush was damaged, certainly. He was going to lose a lot more of his company than he had thought. But it was not unsalvageable. He knew this cave…an evil smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. "Shaza!"

The second in command looked up sharply from his position beside his commander.

Orchbeck motioned in disgust at the fight before them. "Tell them to stop trying to split the elf away from the human. It's not working and it's taking more orcs than we have to spare. Get those two," he waved a clawed hand at the dark-haired elves. "Drive them back to the very back of the cave. The ceiling there is unstable. Get a couple of our boys who know somewhat about rock and have them collapse it. We'll crush the two look-alikes, then concentrate on the other elf and the human. Take them both alive. The human can be our play for this evenings trouble."

Shaza quickly nodded, but hesitated. "What of the other elf? Why do we want him alive?"

Orchbeck rolled his eyes. "Look at him. Who does that face remind you of?" the orc watched his second in command's eyes widen. "Yes, that's right. Now do you understand?"

Without a word, Shaza slipped off into the melee.

Orchbeck watched him go and his yellow eyes lit up. They were good fighters, to be certain. He had never met an elf who wasn't. But there was too many for them. His force was too large to be overcome.

This was a battle he would win.

0-0-0-0

Aragorn wrenched his blade free from an orc carcass, black blood spattering him as he did so. A voice was shouting over the din, the black speech echoing against the cave's walls.

Aragon felt a thrill of horror as he saw the orcs fighting pattern change before his eyes. Before, they had been trying to kill, their blades aimed at vital portions of his anatomy. But now…they were pressing in closer, using the sheer force of their greater numbers to their advantage. Yet their blows had changed. The sharp edges of swords were withdrawn, replaced by hilts and clubs.

They were trying to take him alive.

The ranger glanced at Legolas and saw that the elf prince was in the same boat as he. His silver eyes roved over the heads of the orcs, searching for his brothers…now that was odd.

His brothers fought back to back, as he and Legolas did, but the orcs were not trying to capture the elf twins. Instead, they were driving them back towards the darker recesses of the cave…

Numerous orcs were clustered against the walls, and they seemed to be prying something loose…

It came to Aragorn as he heard the ceiling towards the rear of the cave groan in protest.

"Elladan!" Heedless of the danger, the young human leapt forwards into the press of the twisted creatures. "Elrohir!"

Legolas heard his companion cry out and turned, unwittingly exposing his back to his foe. "Aragorn, wait…!" the elf prince hissed in surprise as he felt a blade slice down his arm, trailing a ribbon of pain. With a fierce shout, the golden elf turned and slew the orc who had wounded him, plunging his knives deep into the monster's throat. Legolas continued to fight, a sick feeling building in the back of his throat. He tried frantically to batter his way through the press of evil creatures, back to his friend's side…but it was as though the orcs had formed a stone wall. They gave way before Aragorn, but closed behind him swiftly.

0-0-0-0

Elrohir brought his sword up quickly, blocking a blow meant to decapitate him. The orc in front of him snarled into the elf's face and shoved hard, actually driving the twin back a pace. The younger of Elrond's sons frowned. He could see Elladan out of the corner of his eye, but could not catch sight of Legolas or Aragorn. For some reason…it bothered him immensely. There was something wrong here…

"Elladan!"

Elrohir heard his younger brother's cry, and looked up swiftly, focusing on his twin. There was nothing threatening Elladan that the elf could not deal with…

"Elrohir!"

Elrohir caught sight of Aragorn pressing through the orcs, leaving Legolas behind. He saw Legolas struggle desperately to follow and realized that the orcs were allowing Aragorn to make his way through them; to separate him from Legolas…

"Estel, go back!"

The monsters behind the young ranger were already drawing closer together, moving in towards the human. "Estel!" For a split second, the twin hesitated; torn between two brothers. Should he race to Aragorn, and leave Elladan to defend himself, or stay with Elladan…?

A horrible groaning answered the dark-haired elf. His grey eyes shot to the cave's ceiling, just in time to see a large part of it tear free and fall…

"Elladan!"

Elrohir leapt toward his brother, knocking the older twin out of harms way as the rock came crashing down. There was a moment of crushing pain on his leg, and the knowledge that more of the ceiling was falling around him…then something hit his head hard and everything went black.

0-0-0-0

"NO" Aragorn stared in horror at the mound of rubble before him. It blocked the back of the cave completely. The twins had disapeared beneath it.

"_NO!_" Heedless of the foes surrounding him, the young Dunadan hurled himself at the blockage, digging desperately. Orcs laid hold of his arms and dragged him back, kicking and writhing in their grip. The silver eyes were blind to the ropes they eventually managed to wind around his wrists; they saw nothing but two elves falling under a cascade of stone…

0-0-0-0

A spear shaft cracked Legolas across the shoulder's, driving the prince to his knees with a cry of surprise. Before he could rise to his feet, the orcs piled in.

The elf fought desperately, stabbing wildly with his knives…a hand closed around his wrist, clamping down tightly. More hands closed around his arms.

The prince was dragged to his feet. His arms were cruelly jerked behind his back and bound. Legolas submitted, for the moment; intent on lulling them into a false sense of security. His blue eyes roamed wildly around the cave, seeing orcs…and more orcs. Where were the twins? Where was Aragorn?

"NO!"

Legolas' head jerked in the direction of the cry. It did not come from the throat of any orc…His heart dropped with a nearly audible 'thud' into his stomach. A mound of rubble close off a good half of the cave. There had to be quite a few orcs underneath that…but the golden elf's attention was not on the fate of his adversaries.

"_NO!_"

His eyes were drawn to the young ranger trying to claw his way through the massive blockage. Rage surged through him as he realized what had to be underneath those stones…

The orcs were taking hold of Aragorn. They were binding him, dragging him away. Legolas tried to push himself up to see over the heads of the orcs. Where were they taking his friend? He could not see the Dunadan anymore… "Aragorn!"

0-0-0-0

Aragorn was forced to his knees before a large and evil looking orc. The yellow eyes surveyed the young human emotionlessley, flickering over him in a moment, and dismissing him easily.

"Well, lads," the orc raised his voice, causing the rabble to fall silent. "We got what I want." A cruel smile curled the corners of his ugly mouth. For a moment, the eyes that looked at the ranger seemed to flicker hungrily. Had he been paying attention, Aragorn would have shuddered at the evil look. But the man was not seeing what was before his eyes. His mind was elsewhere…far, far away.

The orc leader leered. "Now, who's up for some play?"

There was a howling cheer. Aragorn was dragged upright, and pressed face first against the cave wall. His arms were pulled out until he was fastened in a splayed position. He leaned his forehead against the cold stone as his shirt was cut away. It did not matter what they intended to do to him…it simply did not matter…

Behind him, he could hear the sound of a whip being shaken out.

His teeth clenched together.

The thong snapped hard, trailing a line of agony across the ranger's unprotected back.

Aragorn cried out, but it was not in response to the burning pain across his shoulders. Rather, it was in response to the stab of razor sharp grief that speared through his heart. His brothers… his brothers were gone…

A familiar voice answered.

"ARAGORN!"

0-0-0-0

Legolas lunged against his captors, ignoring the searing pain from his arm. An orc stepped in front of the struggling elf, raising a hand to strike the prince.

Said prince lashed out with his foot, kicking the orc in the throat and crushing its' windpipe. The orc fell to the ground with a slight gurgling noise; dead.

The orcs holding Legolas howled with rage and began to rain blow after blow upon the prince's head and torso.

Legolas fell to the ground once more, stars floating in his vision. His breath left his body with a painful 'woosh' as an iron clad shoe connected with his ribs.

"Here! Stop that!"

Immediately, the punishment ceased. The orcs surrounding Legolas stepped back, clearing a space around the fallen elf.

The prince of Mirkwood pushed himself to his knees, then slowly made it to his feet. He shook his head slightly, trying to dispel the lingering stars that floated in his vision. Blood leaked from the corner of his mouth.

The company of orcs parted, allowing a very large and quite evil orc to stride forwards.

"I said he was to be kept alive," the orc snarled. " Alive, and able to travel back to Mirkwood. You keep up like this and we'll be carrying what's left of him." He jerked his head back in the direction he had just come. "The ranger will do for sport."

Legolas felt a cold chill race down his spine. "No."

The orc actually laughed in real amusement. "No? And what, pray tell, would you be doing to stop us?'

The elf's eyes flew around the cave, taking in the amount of orcs slain and those that were left alive. "You need me alive, don't you?"

"Aye. But I don't see what that has to do with the ranger."

"Alive and not permanently harmed?"

The orc laughed nastily. "For the moment."

Legolas drew a deep breath. "Keep the Dunadan alive," he said softly, his blue eyes blazing. "And I won't fight."

The orc laughed again, long and hard. "I don't need your promises not to fight," he finally managed. "You're surrounded, there's no way to get out…"

"But you don't have a hold of me at the moment."

"You're bound."

The elf's eyes dropped down to the orc that lay dead at his feet. "That didn't stop me from killing this one."

Yellow eyes narrowed. "You mean to say that you'll come quietly, without trying to get free at all. Ever. For the life of a human."

Blue eyes glared with all the force they could muster, burning brightly in the fair face. "Yes."

The orc captain growled softly. "Done. But be warned, elf. Every time you try something, and I mean _anything_; the ranger will pay the price." He smiled nastily, exposing rotting teeth. "My boys are good at what they do. And you will watch. Do you understand?"

A brief nod.

The orc turned and walked away, jerking his head towards the elf as he did so. At this signal, several of the company pressed forwards, roughly grabbing Legolas arms and pulling him along with them.

Legolas allowed them to lead him passively on, his mind working in overdrive.

What did they want with him? Why were they traveling to Mirkwood? What was this new evil threatening his home…finally, Aragorn came into his sight, and the prince felt his heart jerk.

The ranger's eyes were staring straight ahead, not seeing. His dark hair fell around his face in sweaty locks. Blood dripped from a small cut on his shoulder, and seeped from an ugly whip wheal across his back. His shirt was gone, apparently torn from his shoulders. Legolas had to bite his tongue to stop from crying out in outrage when he saw the human's sword being fondled by one of the orcs. Aragorn's sword! His brothers had given him that weapon…

Ai, the twins…

It was all happening too fast. Before he could properly assimlate all that was happening to them, the Mirkwood prince found himself being propelled forwards by rough hands. He winced inwardly as one of the hands dug its nails into the wound on his arm, and saw Aragorn flinch as an orc shoved him forwards, cruelly slapping its hand across the whipped flesh.

And the golden prince could only grind his teeth together helplessly as he was rushed out into the night…

0-0-0-0

It was dark. Dark, and unpleasant. Something hard was digging into his back, grinding against his shoulder blade. Elladan shifted slightly, and blinked in confusion. Why was he lying on his back on what felt to be a bed of rocks?

Slowly, the twin raised himself up on his elbows, wincing as his head protested sharply at the movement. He reached up and probed his temple gently, finding a rather large swollen lump, covered in something sticky. Drawing his fingers away he held them up in front of his face. Blood. He sighed. Lovely.

Carefully, Elladan pulled himself up onto his feet, grasping the cave wall for support. He tried to piece together what had happened…The orcs had attacked…he and his twin had been fighting…Aragorn had called his name…

There had been a horrible rumbling sound…

Elladan's grey eyes widened as he suddenly remembered. Elrohir had leapt at him, knocking him out of the way of the collapsing ceiling. Which meant that Elrohir would be…

The older twin nearly choked as he looked at the immense mound of rubble that sealed off the cave. "Elrohir!"

The elf's glow made shadows play against the wall as he desperately searched for his brother. Elrohir could not be dead…he could not…He would know if Elrohir was dead…

If he was not dead, _where was his light_!

Finally, he saw it. It was so dim…and half buried.

The younger twin was buried from the waist down, his hair falling across his face, creating a stark contrast between the raven strands and the terrible pallor of the elf's skin.

There was blood dripping from a wound on his head.

His eyes were closed.

And his light seemed to grow more dim by the moment…

"ELROHIR!"


	4. Dark Dreams

The orcs had finally halted. They had run throughout the night, never resting; dragging their captives along for the ride. Only when dawn's pale light had started to seep through the sky did the orc leader guide them into reasonable shelter from the sun's rays. The company quickly made their way into the trees, eager to escape the oncoming light of the morning.

"Stay there." Shaza shoved the bound elf to the ground and shook a warning finger at him. "Don't get any ideas about escaping, little elf." He grinned unpleasantly. "We have ways of making you regret it. You won't like them, but I daresay we'd get a good nights entertainment."

Legolas clamped his lips shut, biting back the scathing retort he longed to hurl at the sneering creature before him. For Aragorn's sake, he would remain silent. The prince bit his tongue as another orc tied him to a tree, pulling the ropes cruelly tight. He fought the urge to antagonize his captors, knowing that anything he said might bring down consequences on his friend.

Speaking of which…

Aragorn was in the process of being bound next to the elf, and Legolas heard the ranger's slight hiss of pain as his back connected with the rough bark. At the sound, the Mirkwood prince turned a ferocious glare on the orc binding the human. The twisted creature merely sneered and gave the rope an extra tug.

"Aragorn," Legolas whispered as their guard settled himself a short distance away.

No response.

"Strider?"

At the sound of the old nickname, the young human stirred, turning his head to gaze at his companion. Legolas breathed a sigh of relief. Though he could see the sorrow deep in their silver depths, Aragorn's eyes were clear, and focused. A small sad smile twitched at the ranger's lips.

"This," he said softly, knowing Legolas' ears could easily hear him, "Is far to familiar a scene, _mellon nin_."

"Agreed." The elf squirmed slightly against the ropes that held him and his friend.

"What are they after?"

"How do you mean?"

The human snorted rather indelicately. "Legolas, they went through special pains to take you alive. You can not deny that."

The golden eyebrows drew together in a frown. "No. I can not. Their leader…" the prince nodded his head towards the imposing figure at the other end of the camp. "He said something about needing me alive and able to travel back to Mirkwood."

Aragorn stared. "Mirkwood?" Then the rest of his companion's statement hit him. "Wait…_back_ to Mirkwood?"

Legolas nodded, and was surprised to see his friend's face swim alarmingly before his eyes as he did so.

"Legolas?" Aragorn's voice was worried. "What is the matter?"

"Nothing," the elf answered automatically, even as he fought a sudden wave of dizziness that passed over him. "I'm fine."

Immediately, one dark brow crawled up the ranger's forehead in a frighteningly accurate imitaion of his foster father. "You are 'fine.' In other words, something is seriously wrong. Is it your arm?"

Legolas shook his head in adamant refusal, ignoring the burning sensation that was indeed traveling from the wound he had received. He hadn't had much chance to notice it on the mad dash through the night, but now that he was sitting still…it was definitely there. "Truly, I am fine." He smiled disarmingly at the dark haired man's skeptical look. "Besides, even if there _were_ something wrong…what could you do?"

Aragorn scowled darkly, but had to admit his friend had a valid point.

"Hey you!" Their guard threw a stone in their direction, narrowly missing Legolas' head. "Be quiet! Get some sleep while you can. We have another nice walk tonight." He laughed nastily, and threw another stone, which bounced off the tree trunk between the two friends.

Legolas waited until the guard moved away, then whispered softly to his companion. "He's right. Get some sleep, Aragorn. I'll stay awake first."

The human nodded. "Wake me in two hours."

The elf sat still, remaining silent. After what seemed like a very long time, he heard the ranger's breathing even out and grow deeper. He was asleep.

Legolas sighed, leaning his head back against the tree trunk and closing his eyes. He had not told Aragorn the truth. The pain from his arm was growing, spreading in waves…making him curiously lightheaded. Not to mention what it was doing to his vision… Cautiously, he slitted one eye open and squinted down at his arm. The wound was no longer bleeding at least. However, the black tint around the edges worried him. His mouth settled into a grim line. The blade must have been poisoned.

But that didn't make sense…

Why would the orcs go through all the trouble to capture him if only to have him die of poison?

He sighed again. He did not know. And it hurt his head too much to try to figure it out at the moment. A slight shudder shook the elf's form. How had it gotten so cold so quickly?

Suddenly he was tired…so tired. The prince ground his teeth together hard, forcing his eyes to stay open. He had to stay awake…One of them needed to be awake, and Aragorn needed sleep more than an elf would…at least normally…Legolas shook his head in an attempt to clear it, and quickly realised just how bad of an idea that was. The entire camp spun and swayed in his distorted vision. He shut his eyes tightly, keeping out the dizzying image.

When he dared to open them again, he was relieved to see the camp had reverted back to its stationary position.

Of course, now there were these black spots hovering at the edges of his line of sight… The elf prince blinked hard, hoping to drive them away.

No luck.

Was it his imagination, or were the black spots spreading…? No, no they were spreading. His consciousness was slowly being pulled from him…

Darkness swallowed him, and his eyes slid shut.

0-0-0-0

Orchbeck snarled at the sun that managed to filter through the leaves of the trees. He couldn't wait to get back to Mirkwood…Ah, Mirkwood. His yellow eyes lit up as he remembered the cool darkness of Mirkwood's depths, where sunlight had not found its way for hundreds of years. His gaze fastened on his two prisoners.

The key to his return, and the instrument of his revenge against Mirkwood's king…all in one golden haired being. He frowned slightly.

The two appeared to be sleeping. Both leaning limply against the ropes that bound them to their tree. Both pairs of eyes tightly shut.

Something teased at his memory…something about the sleeping habits of the elves…he couldn't remember and it bothered him. What was it about his captive that was tweaking at the back his mind?

The orc captain shrugged, then laid himself down and turned his face away from the sun. Perhaps it would come to him later.

0-0-0-0

Elladan sank to the ground, breathing heavily. His face was coated in rock dust and sweat. His hair was matted with the same mixture, and it clung to his face and neck. Blood crusted along a small wound on his forehead, but it was not serious. It had stopped bleeding some time ago.

The older twin ground the heels of his scratched and bruised hands into his bloodshot eyes. He was so tired…he glanced at the still form next to him and pushed himself back onto his feet. He didn't have time to be tired.

Elrohir might not have very much time left.

The younger of Elrond's sons had not stirred throughout the night. His light was dim, but he still breathed.

Elladan heaved more of the rock away, gradually making his way through the mound that held his twin fast. It was slow, but the dark-haired elf had almost made it through. Elrohir was almost freed.

Elladan finally knelt beside his brother, grasping his shoulders and pulling him away from the stones that had almost claimed the younger twins' life.

Lord Elrond's first-born leaned back against the wall of the cave, his brother's head cushioned in his lap. Exhaustion weighed heavily down on Elladan, threatening to drag him into slumber. He swiped wearily at his face, wishing for nothing more than a good long sleep, yet knowing that he could not.

Not until he knew for sure that Elrohir would be alright.

His hands tightened almost unconsciously on his brother's shoulders, as though he could anchor the younger twin by sheer physical force. One hand slowly pushed the strands of loose hair away from Elrohir's face, and tucked them behind the pointed ears.

Despair welled up in Elladan's heart. He was not the healer that Elrond, or even Aragorn was. He did not know just how serious Elrohir's injuries might be, and was uncertain as to how they were going to escape from their prison of stone. His elven heart already yearned for daylight, starlight…anything other than the bare rock illuminated by his and his brother's faint glow.

He glanced down and a frown furrowed his forehead.

_Very_ faint glow…

" _Elrohir,_" he whispered softly. There was no response. The older twin sighed softly. This was too much. "_Avo bado, gwanor nin… maetho i mor…an nin."_

Tears welled in his grey eyes, and his throat closed. He allowed his eyelids to slide shut, sending two drops streaking down his fair face. In truth, he did not wish to open them again. He did not desire to see his brother like this…nor the cave…nor anything else at the moment.

"_Elladan?_"

Elladan's eyes flew open. He stared downwards into the face of a very confused looking Elrohir.

The younger twin blinked slowly and gazed up at his brother. "_Mas…mas na Estel?"_

Elladan felt his heart shrink at those words. "_U-Iston."_

Elrohir tried to push himself into a sitting position, but was quickly halted by his brother.

"Don't, Elrohir. Please, I don't know how badly you were injured…" 

The twin halted his movements, and relaxed with a sigh. "What happened?"

"Before or after you jumped under a mountain of falling stone?"

"I seem to remember that part…" He blinked and shifted slightly, wincing as he moved his left leg. "But I do not remember anything after the ceiling falling."

"There is not much to remember," Elladan noted the wince, but chose not to comment on it for the moment. "We were both knocked unconscious. When I awoke, I could not hear any sounds of orcs, and you were half buried." He breathed a shaky sigh as he looked down at his twin. As happy as he was to see Elrohir awake, he was worried. Elrohir's light was still so dim…

"Ah. That must be why I feel as though I have been crushed between a dwarven smith's hammer and anvil."

Elladan did not appreciate his brother's attempt at levity. "Be serious."

"What makes you think I am not?" Elrohir glanced around the cave. "How long have I been out?"

"Quite a while."

At the tense sound of his twin's voice, Elrohir looked up again into his brother's face. "Meaning a _very_ long while, in which you dug me out and took no rest, am I right?" He saw the exhaustion pulling at Elldan's eyes and knew that he was correct. A small smile flickered at the corners of his mouth.

"Go to sleep. I'll be alright."

Elladan shook his head, eyes burning. "I can't sleep…we have to get out of here. Estel and Legolas…"

"Elladan…" Elrohir lifted a hand and placed it firmly over his brother's mouth. "You will not be in any shape to help them if you fall over with weariness. Or perhaps that is your intent. When the orcs see you lying curled up on the ground, snoring, ('Elves do not snore!' Elladan interjected in a shocked voice, but Elrohir paid him no heed.) they will be so overcome with laughter that they will be easily defeated." His gaze softened as he saw his brother's face twist with indecision.

" I am worried for them as well. But…we will not be able to help them if you do not take some rest."

Elladan sighed. "Very well. But not long." He cast worried eyes down at his younger brother. "Promise me that if I do not wake, you will wake me in an hour."

Elrohir gazed at his brother, taking in the tired stoop of the dark-haired elf's shoulders, cut across his forehead, bruised fingers, torn palms, and general dirt and sweat layer of grime.

"I promise," he lied easily.

0-0-0-0

Elrond strode through the halls of his home, curiously restless. A bright, beautiful spring morning had dawned over Imladris…and he could not enjoy it. Nor could he seem to hold still for more than three seconds together.

Finally he forced himself to sit at his desk. But even there, his long fingers tapped at the smooth wood constantly.

With a snort of self-disgust, the elven lord rose once more and started to pace his study. Something was wrong…he could feel it…so engrossed in his own thoughts, he did not notice Glorfindel knocking on the door for a good ten minutes.

The golden haired elf scowled darkly as his Lord finally admitted him. "About time. What were you thinking of?"

"I can not say…"Elrond's brows drew together in a frown. "For I do not know myself…I feel…as though something is very wrong."

Glorfindel's expression immediately smoothed over. He had served Elrond for many years, and had learned never to disregard one of the elf lord's 'feelings'. "What do you think of it?" he probed.

Elrond started to pace again, his frown growing more and more fierce. "Something to do with my sons. And Legolas…" the dark-haired elf's voice trailed away as he stopped suddenly, his eyes closing.

"Elrond?" Glorfindel stepped forwards, worried. He stopped as Elrond spoke again.

"Darkness…" The lord of Imladris' mouth flattened into grim line. "Darkness and pain." He opened his eyes again, and Glorfindel was shocked to see anger in the grey depths.

"Gather a company of our warriors," Elrond said harshly. "As quickly as possible."

The blond elf lord hastily departed and Elrond was left to himself. Alone.

The vision he had seen burned behind the dark grey eyes. A vision of pain. Of suffering.

Of his sons.

A cry of anguish echoed in his mind. Dark hair fell over a young man's forehead, partially obscuring the purple bruises that colored the otherwise pale skin. He leaned over a still form, calling out a name as he pulled the being into his arms. Tears stood in the silver eyes…falling down his cheeks onto his lifeless companion's golden hair… And dark twisted shadows surrounded the two. Their ugly laughter drifted through the air.

Elrond shook his head, wishing to see no more.

Two dark-haired elves sat against the wall of a cave, the one's head pillowed in the other's lap. Both were injured… The one leaning against the wall was asleep, his eyes open and unfocused. The second was awake, but his light was dim. Very dim. Elrond could see just how badly wounded he really was…

Then the vision faded, and the lord of Imladris was left grinding his teeth.

Something or someone had hurt his sons.

And when he found out who or what it was, they would realize just how incredibly stupid that descision had been.

0-0-0-0

Mellon nin-My friend 

_Avo bado, gwanor nin…Maetho i mor…an nin.- Do not go, my brother…Fight the dark, for me._

_Mas…mas na Estel?- Where…Where is Estel?_

_U-iston- I don't know._

0-0-0-0


	5. Poison

Aragorn opened his eyes with a jerk, gasping as he felt a thin line of fire slide all the way up his bare arm.

An orc crouched beside him, leering unpleasantly. It sneered at the young ranger and dug the tip of its knife into Aragorn's arm a little harder. Blood trickled from the long cut. Several of his tormentor's cronies surrounded them, laughing unpleasantly as the red liquid dripped onto the ground.

The human winced slightly at the added pressure. This was painful certainly…but it wasn't something he couldn't handle…his only real concern at the moment was how they had managed to surprise him like this. Legolas should have seen them coming and woken him long before now…

His thoughts were interrupted as the orc pressed even harder, sending pain racing from his shoulder to the tips of his fingers. He struggled to get away from the cruel game, automatically fighting against the ropes that held him.

"That's enough!" The orc captain scowled at his troops as he strode forwards. "I said get them up, not play with them. We don't have time for this."

The orcs scowled and grumbled, but drew back. The one who had been cutting Aragorn quickly sliced through the ropes that bound the ranger to the tree and pulled the human to his feet with a rough jerk. Aragorn hissed as the black clawed hand closed over his wounded bicep, but quickly fell silent. He glanced back at the tree, anxious to see if Legolas was receiving the same treatment…

He froze.

When the ropes had been cut, Legolas had fallen to the ground. He lay in a crouched postion, knees drawn in towards his chest. His eyes were tightly shut. A sheen of sweat covered his face. His breathing was light and fast.

"Legolas!" Aragorn tried to leap to his friend's side, but the orc restrained him, gripping his wounded arm even more tightly.

0-0-0-0

Orchbeck scowled fiercely down at the elf. What in the name of evil was wrong with the wretched creature…? He kicked the still form with an oath. The only response was a low moan as the orc's boot connected with the elf's ribcage.

Orchbeck crouched down and turned his captive onto his back. His breathing was rapid…a fever raged under the fair skin…the lithe body trembled violently…the orc captain caught sight of blood and seized the elf's arm. A long jagged wound ran from his elbow almost to his wrist. It was not deep, but the edges were blackened…the orc's eyes narrowed dangerously…yes, they were blackened…as though the wound was poisoned…the orc snarled viciously. He had _told_ them…! Ah,well. At least it was easily remedied.

Cursing to himself he reached within the filthy vest he wore and withdrew a small vial. This was going to slow them down. While he could cure the elf, the scum certainly wasn't going to be strong enough to walk this night. He grabbed Legolas' jaw roughly, forcing the prince's mouth open.

0-0-0-0

Aragorn saw the bottle and nearly panicked. Ignoring the searing pain that tore through his arm, he wrenched his limb out of his guard's fingers, kicking bacwards as he did so. His boot connected solidly with the orc's knee, and the creature screeched in pain.

"Stop!" The human threw himself at Orchbeck. Crashing into the orc's side, he sent them both to the ground. The vial flew from Orchbeck's fingers.

"Stupid human…" Orchbeck thrust Aragorn away, backhanding him savagely across the face. Snarling in his horrible language, the orc quickly rose to his feet and dealt another punishing blow to the side of the ranger's head.

Aragorn blinked rapidly, trying to clear the stars from his vision. He couldn't black out…if they gave Legolas what was in that bottle… He felt hands seizing his shoulders and dragging him back. Orchbeck had found the vial and was once again preparing to administer the potion to his captive.

"Stop!" Aragorn struggled uselessly against the clawed fingers. "You will kill him!"

Now he had Orchbeck's attention.

Slowly, the orc captain withdrew from Legolas' still form, placing the vial back into his pocket. "What do you mean, human?"

"It will not cure him," Aragorn shook his head lightly, trying to clear the cobwebs. "He is an elf. Your brews will only kill him faster. Please…" he stumbled over the word, reluctant to let it pass his lips. His silver eyes fell on his friend.

Immediately, he swallowed his pride.

"Please," he continued. "I am a healer. Let me help him."

0-0-0-0

" I can't believe you didn't wake me."

Elrohir smiled slightly at the petulant tone of his brother's voice. "Really, I thought you would expect it by now."

Elladan swiped sulkily at the sweat dripping from his brow and glared at his twin. Elrohir smiled back innocently from his seated position.

With a wordless snarl, the elder brother turned back to the mammoth pile of stone and his nearly impossible task of making a way through.

Leaning back against the wall, Elrohir let his breath out in a long sigh, his smile slowly sliding off his face. When Elladan had awoken, they had discovered that the younger twin's left leg was broken, along with several ribs. Elrohir made light of it…but it frustrated him greatly to sit while his brother did all the work. Not only that…he was beginning to believe that something else was injured deep inside of him…something rather serious…his breathing was becoming gradually harder… He knew that his dim light worried Elladan, and so for his twin, he made an effort to shine a bit more brightly.

It was becoming more and more difficult.

Elladan paused again, leaning against the blockage, resting his bruised and bleeding hands.

He did not think that Elrohir could see he face. Perhaps that was the reason he allowed the very briefest look of despair to cloud his fair features.

Perhaps it was the reason he allowed tears to pool in his gray eyes.

But Elrohir saw, and his heart nearly broke. He could not stand to see his brother so. He had not seen him this utterly down cast for a very long time…since their mother had passed to Valinor in fact. The very night she had left, he had come to Elladan's room. There he had seen his twin leaning his forehead against his window, the tears in his eyes reflecting the rain that trickled down the glass. He could almost _feel_ the hopelessness seeping from the elder twin's rigid stance, filling the entire chamber.

They had not spoken that night. Elrohir had simply pulled his brother from the window, enfolding him in a fierce embrace. He had sung softly as his brother wept.

And he had stayed until the morning.

With a swift move, Elladan dashed the tears from his eyes and continued to labor.

The younger twin sighed softly. Almost in relief. Here was something he could do at last…

Elladan jerked his head around in surprise as the first line of a well known song echoed around their stone prison.

Elrohir's eyes were closed, his head leaning back against the rough wall of the cave. He was singing.

_Snow-white! Snow-white! O lady clear!  
O Queen beyond the Western Seas!  
O light to us that wander here  
Amid the world of woven trees!_

His voice was soft and deep. Not quite the melodius tenor of Legolas…but very pleasant to listen to nonetheless. Elladan actually felt a small smile tug at the corners of his mouth as he worked…and suddenly the rocks did not seem so heavy…

_Gilthoniel! O Elbereth!  
Clear are thy eyes and bright thy breath!  
Snow-white! Snow-white! We sing to thee  
In a far land beyond the Sea!  
_

_O stars that in the Sunless Year  
With shining hand by her were sown,  
In windy fields now bright and clear  
We see your silver blossom blown!_

_O Elbereth! Gilthoniel!  
We still remember, we who dwell  
In this far land beneath the trees,  
Thy starlight on the Western Seas._

0-0-0-0

Orchbeck watched the young ranger bend close to the ground, carefully pulling up a large handful of the plant he had discovered. Finally. The orc captain was in an extremely foul temper. This went against every instinct in his body. Every part of him wanted to see the elf suffer and suffer horribly…and here he was helping to find the herbs that bring comfort to the creature!

He had to fight his natural instincts. He _needed_ that elf. It was imperative that the elf remain alive. And for the most part…unspoilt. If he was to exact the fullness of his revenge, it would be much sweeter if the prince was in good condition by the time they reached Mirkwood.

The orc captain released some of his tension by kicking the human's bent form and jerking savagely on the lead rope that had been tied around the captive's throat. To his dissapointment, the dark haired ranger did not cry out at the abuse. If he did not need the man's skills at the moment, he would be so happy to intruct his prisoner in the fine arts of dispensing pain…he was sure that eventually he would get a scream. Unfortunately…he _did_ need the man. Who among his company knew how to treat elves?

0-0-0-0

Shaza glared down at the elf. It wasn't right. It simply wasn't right that they should be _healing _an _elf_. He understood his commander's point of view, oh yes. He too wanted to return to Mirkwood.

But this was disgusting.

The others agreed with him, he could tell. He saw the sidelong glances they threw in the fair being's direction. Very hungry sidelong glances. They thirsted for screams of pain, just as he did.

The golden haired elf shook spasmodically. Every so often he would whisper broken phrases of elvish.

Shaza resisted the urge to cover his ears. He hated the sound of the elven tongue. Intsead, he cursed in his own language. To his surprise, he saw a shadow of pain flit across the delirious elf's features. A cruel smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he waved over a few of his mates. Perhaps they could have some fun with the elf after all.

0-0-0-0

Cruel laughter surrounded him…floating in the air…

Memories of different laughter… pleasant laughter…in a sunlit hall…Why had the memory of that laughter come back to him now? Why here?

This was not a place for laughter…

0-0-0-0

Shaza and his orcs stood over Legolas, laughing cruelly. They took turns bending over him, whispering into his ear in their black speech, laughing when he shuddered. They could tell that what they were doing pained him, and they took great enjoyment in it.

Shaza bent low, his eyes gleaming with malice. This was fun. Oh yes, quite a lot of fun in fact. But he still wanted more. He wanted to hear the elf scream. Beg. Plead with them to stop. He raised his voice, telling the creature exactly what was going to happen to it when they reached Mirkwood, the horrible snarls of his tongue seemed to blacken the very air.

The elf shook convulsively, his eyelids flickering. He moaned….whispering a soft word.

"Aragorn…"

0-0-0-0

Aragorn strode back towards the camp wearily. In his hands, he clutched the precious plant that would heal his friend. It had taken a long time to find it…and now he was quite bruised from numerous kicks and blows aimed in his direction. A raw, red circle had been rubbed around his neck from the constant jerks on his 'leash'. Orchbeck had not been in a good mood.

Stiff and aching as he was, the ranger could not help but try to speed his steps. A growing sense of disquiet had come on him. Something was horribly wrong, and he needed to get back to Legolas.

Orchbeck willingly matched his stride with the human's. After all, he had wasted enough valuble time.

0-0-0-0

The elf prince tried to force his mind away from what was happening. To remember something…_anything_… He needed light, but everything was dark before his eyes.

A memory of Aragorn swum through his fever fogged mind…his silver eyes shining at the promise of a journey…but even that had been taken from him.

The light was gone…he could not find it. Only the memory was left…

0-0-0-0

Shaza was growing increasingly impatient with the captive. He watched as the blue eyes rolled back in the elf's head and snorted.

With a swift move, he reached down and grabbed the back of his prisoner's head, entwining his fingers through the golden hair. "Elf scum," he sneered as he jerked the prince up onto his knees. Shaza captured the elf's jaw roughly, and Legolas hissed in pain. His blue eyes opened wide, and the orc could see the confusion that reigned there.The prince tried to turn away.

Shaza tightened his grip, digging his nails into the smooth skin. "Don't like what you see?" The elf's refusal to cry out irked the orc to no end. "Better get used to it, little elf." He released Legolas' chin and drew his hand back to strike…determined to hear the elf scream…

0-0-0-0

Aragorn saw the hand raise. His own hand snapped back, taking hold of the rope Orchbeck had tied around his neck. With a fierce jerk, he wrenched it from the surprised orc's fingers.

The plant he had searched for so long fell to the ground as the ranger sped towards his friend. He saw Shaza bring his hand down hard, stiking Legolas across the face. The orc raised his had again…

Only to have it siezed from behind. Aragorn caught the black, scaly wrist and twisted sharply as he pulled down.

Shaza was hurled to the ground, a 'woof' of air leaving his lungs as the wind was knocked from him.

Aragorn leapt over his fallen enemy, catching Legolas in his arms as the blond elf started to fall forwards. "_Legolas!_"

Shaza slowly made his way to his feet, fury twisting his features as he gazed at the young ranger. He clawed fingers scrabbled for the knife at this belt. He pulled it free with a yell.

Aragorn looked back in time to see the orc raise the knife high.

"STOP!"

Orchbeck snarled angrily as he strode forwards and snatched the knife from his second in command. "You can't kill him! Who else knows how to treat the elf? How many time do I have to tell you something before it sinks into your thick skull?" He looked around fiercely, glaring at the members of his company. "Now listen, all of you. We need the elf _alive_. Do you understand? If you ever want to get back into Mirkwood, we need the little princeling here."

Aragorn stiffened slightly. They knew who Legolas was!

"And I know that there's a lot of fun we could have with him and still have him alive…but think of this. I want him fit when we reach Mirkwood. Cause then it will take so much longer for him to die if his dear father won't let us in."

An appreciative mumble rose from the orcs and they backed off. Orchbeck handed the knife back to it's owner. He looked down at Aragorn and aimed a kick at the young man's wounded arm. "Get to work…healer. Just remember this. If he dies, so do you. And I promise, it will be very slow." The orc captain opened his hand and dropped the plant Aragorn needed into the ranger's lap.

Orchbeck called toward his company and three orcs quickly took up a guarding position around the companions. With a flick of his knife, he severed the rope around Aragorn's neck, then turned and walked away.

0-0-0-0

Glorfindel watched his lord out of the corner of his eye. They were four days out of Rivendell…and he was slightly worried.

They did not stop often, only long enough for the horses to rest. The elves took to sleeping in shifts when they were halted, one half now, the other when they stopped again. Glorfindel knew that when Elrond slept, he saw the vision.

Elrond had told him what he had seen…and it chilled the blond elf lord. Who knew what the sons of his lord had gotten into this time?

They had discovered the four's trail easily enough. Glorfindel found it somewhat comforting that the young ones seemed to have been taking the journey quite slowly. They hadn't traveled at anywhere near the pace of the Rivendell warriors at any rate.

Elrond rose from his sitting position and strode towards his second in command. "Get them up. It's time we were going."

The sun was sinking slowly as the elves swung themselves onto their mounts. Streaks of red and orange speared the dove gray clouds, falling across the company's backs as they rode.

Elrond was fretting. Glorfindel could see it in the way the elf lord's long fingers gripped at his steed's mane. He knew why.

Their pace had slowed considerably, but it was neccesary. It was not safe for the horses to travel in the mountain paths at great speed. Elrond knew this…yet he could not help but chafe at the delay.

An elf pulled up alongside Glorfindel, a frown marring his smooth forehead. "_Hir nin,_" he said quietly.

"Hmmm?" Glorfindel drew his attention away from Elrond. "Yes? What is it?"

"There is a small cave up ahead…and there is a strange sound coming from it." The elf tilted his head, indicating the direction from which the noise was coming.

The blond elf lord held up his hand, halting the company. Elrond looked up sharply, his eyebrows drawing together. "That sound…"

Without the harsh 'clop' of the horses hooves on the rocky path…the very slightest of echos could be hear…a haunting melody…

Elrond's heels kicked into his horse's flanks. "Elrohir!"

0-0-0-0

_hir nin- My lord_


	6. Found

Elrohir gasped softly, trying to fill his lungs with enough air to continue his song. Elladan heard the soft noise and turned from his labours. He saw sweat beading across the younger twin's forehead…the actual struggle to draw breath… Elladan quickly crossed to his brother's side and knelt, carefully pulling Elrohir into his arms.

The past three days had been hard. Elladan was near collapsing in exhaustion, and Elrohir…The young elf's pale skin seemed to be the only thing that shone. His light was almost gone. Looking down at his twin, Elladan was nearly consumed with guilt. For days, he had listened to Elrohir's singing…taking the hope his brother offered without questioning what would be the price to pay.

"I'm alright," Elrohir finally gasped, his voice hoarse and barely audible. His throat had been rubbed raw from his song. "Really."

Elladan merely snorted. "You lie." His hands gently stroked dark hair away from his brother's clammy forehead, belying the harshness of his voice. "Why did you not tell me how badly you were injured?"

"It is…not… that bad."

"Elrohir! You can hardly breathe!"

A weak smile pulled at the corners of the young elf lord's lips. "Oh…that. Well…once you get used to it…"

Elladan gave a short, somewhat bitter laugh. "Oh, I see. Yes, it must not be so bad, once you get _used_ to dying."

Elrohir did not answer. His eyes were drawn to the wall of stone that blocked the entrance. To be more specific…the small ray of red light that poured through a tiny hole. "You made it through…"

"Almost." Elladan followed his twin's gaze with tired eyes. "It's too small…too late…and I am too tired." His eyes were losing focus even as he sat.

Elrohir felt his brother's breathing slow, and deepen and knew that Elladan had fallen asleep. He gazed at the small hole and smiled. Though he probably would not live…Elladan would get out.

All the songs that he knew, all the songs written by elves, the dark haired elf had sung over the past three days. He searched his memory, trying to think of something….a grin tugged at the corners of his mouth.

A few years ago, when Estel had been only ten or so, a hobbit had passed through Rivendell along with Gandalf. The hobbit returned every so often to visit…and it was one his songs that came to Elrohir.

_The road goes ever on and on…_

_0-0-0-0_

Elrond gasped, his eyes growing wide. The vision he had seen four days ago, and the nightmares that plagued him since.

His sons…one asleep…the other so hurt…

The elf lord nearly fell off his horse and sprinted into the cave. He slid to a halt, astonished at the sight that met his eyes.

The entire back half of the cavern was completely blocked off, an enormous pile of rubble filling it from top to bottom…almost.

There was a very small hole, and through that hole came a very weak voice. It echoed hauntingly against the stones, magnifying and drifting out into the twilight. Elrond moved forward, carefully climbing to the small hole and peering inside.

Elladan sat with Elrohir's head in his lap, his head leaning back against the rough wall. His eyes were open and unfocused, asleep. Elrohir was singing softly, his voice rough. As the last notes died into silence, Elrond saw a brief spasm of pain slide across his son's face. The young elf tried to breath deeply, but a cough shook his frame.

"Elrohir," Elrond called softly through the opening. "_Ion nin_, I am here…"

Elrohir's eyes jerked upwards, and widened in amazement. His lips were moving, but no sound came from his throat. " _Ada_," he finally managed.

The elf lord pulled at the rocks, trying to enlarge the hole. "_Avo 'osto, pen neth._ I am coming."

The ghost of a smile pulled at his son's lips. "I am…not so young…anymore…"

Despite his worry, the father could not help but smile. "Child." Elrond snorted softly. "You are not even 3000 years of age."

"2823 must count for _something…_"

" You say to your father who has passed 5000 quite some time ago." The rocks tore at his skin, but he did not pause.

The other elves entered the cave and realized what must be behind the mound. Swiftly, they came to their Lord's aid.

0-0-0-0

Elladan stirred fitfully in his sleep. Someone was calling to him, but he did not wish to wake. He was quite comfortable, thank you very much, and wanted to stay that way. He had the odd impression that something incredibly unpleasant was waiting for him the moment he truly returned to consciousness.

"_Lasto a nin, Elladan, Ada hi!"_

Elrohir. It was Elrohir who was calling him. That shouldn't surprise him, Elrohir was _always_ waking him when he wanted to sleep…or _letting_ him sleep when he needed to be woken. He would have to talk to brother about reversing those particular actions."Quiet," he grumbled sleepily. A shaky laugh answered him…but was interrupted by a bout of violent coughing.

At that sound, Elladan suddenly recalled where he was. "Elrohir!" He jerked awake and looked down at his twin anxiously. He kicked himself mentally. He should not have fallen asleep…not when he knew how badly injured Elrohir really was… "Easy, _gwanor nin_," the elf whispered as he held his brother gently. "Relax and try to breath deeply…"

"_Ada_…" Elrohir gasped through the coughs that racked his injured body. "_Ada…_"

Elladan's brow furrowed as he looked down at the injured lordling. "No, Elrohir, it is I. Elladan."

Elrohir shook his head vehemently. "No…not what I meant…"

"Elladan!"

At the sound of the deep voice, Elladan's head shot upwards, his grey eyes widening. "_Ada_!"

The hole he had originally made was much enlarged by this time, and it looked as though it would soon be wide enough to allow an elf to pass through. He could see Elrond as well as several other elves quickly pulling away the stones.

Elrohir went limp.

Looking down in alarm, Elladan was horrified to see his twin's eyes slowly drift shut. "Ro!" The older twin froze, fearing that if he moved he would only worsen his brother's condition. "_Ada_, hurry!"

0-0-0-0

Glorfindel hastily scooped rubble out of the way. The tunnel was finally wide enough for an elf to slide through. Squirming uncomfortably, Elrond half crawled, half slithered through the narrow opening.

Elladan bit his lip as his father appeared. "_Ada_, Ro's eyes…"

" I see," Elrond quickly bent over his younger son, a worried frown creasing his forehead. His fingers quickly sought out a pulse. He breathed a sigh of relief as he felt it…weak, thready…but definitely there. "Don't worry, Elladan," he tried to push a note of confidence into his voice for his son's sake. "He will be alright." The dark haired elf lord cast a glance back at the opening he had crawled through. "We need to get him out of here…"

"I can help!" Elladan tried to straighten, but winced as his muscles seemed to cry out in anguish.

Elrond caught one of his eldest's hands and raised it, his eyes surveying the bruised and bleeding fingers critically. He raised an eyebrow. "Ah."

"They are just scrapes…" Elladan's voice died away as Elrond's other eyebrow joined the first. "Really, _Ada_."

Without a word, Elrond grasped the other hand and pulled it up as well. "I see." His eyes traveled over Elladan's weary and battered frame. Dirt clung to every inch of the dark haired elf. A cut across his forehead was crusted with dried blood and Valar knew what else. His long hair hung in sweat soaked strands, clinging to his neck and face.

Despite his worry, a smile tugged at the father's lips. "And I might even believe you."

Elladan's eyes popped open. "You…do?"

"I said might."

As Elladan groaned, Elrond called back to Glorfindel.

0-0-0-0

Elrohir slowly opened his eyes. A blanket of stars was spread above him. He blinked slightly in confusion. That hadn't been there when he had lost consciousness… he tried to move and gasped at the stab of pain that shot through his side.

"Easy," A very well known face appeared above him. "I did not fix those ribs of yours just to have you undo all my work with unnecessary movement."

The young elf lord relaxed. "_Ada_. Good. It wasn't just a dream then." He looked down at his rib cage and noticed the thick bandages that wound around his chest. "What happened?"

"One of your broken ribs was putting pressure on your lungs," his father answered. "It came very close to puncturing them altogether." The elder elf smiled softly, concealing how close to death his son had actually been. "Your leg should be alright. It is not as bad as it appears to be. I set it while you slept, and you did not even seem to notice."

Elrohir chuckled softly. "I do not think that I would have noticed if a balrog had come up to me and asked for directions to Mordor." He laughed even harder and groaned as pain flared across his ribs. "I probably should not do that…"

"Probably not," his father agreed dryly. "Here," he held a cup toward his son. "Drink this."

Elrohir eyed the cup suspiciously. "No, thank you. I think I have had quite enough sleep for now…"

Elrond did not speak a word. He merely continued to hold the cup in his outstretched hand.

The young elf sighed deeply. "Oh, very well." Taking the vessel, he quickly gulped the contents. His features twisted into a grimace of distaste as he swallowed the last of it. "Ugh! Oh, that is disgusting."

Elrond chuckled. "You sound just like Estel."

The two froze, struck by the mention of the ranger's name. "_Ada,_" Elrohir murmured as the drug he had consumed started to take over his senses. "Estel…and Legolas…the orcs…"

"Don't worry," The elf lord's voice was soft, but his grey eyes had turned to steel. "We will get them back."

One of his sons was still missing…and a vision was unfulfilled…

0-0-0-0

Elladan heard his father approaching and tried to rise. Glorfindel reached out almost casually and checked the young elf's motion, holding him in place. "Patience, _pen neth_. Your father will arrive in his own time, and quite frankly…" a light of humor rose in the fair elf's pale eyes. "You are not in very good shape. It would be better for you to rest."

The elder twin opened his mouth to argue, but closed it with a snap as his muscles decided to side with Glorfindel and scream their protests at being moved. 'Traitors' he thought darkly, glaring at his own legs.

Elrond sank down next to his eldest child. A long sigh of relief flowed from his lips.

Elladan looked at him anxiously. "Elrohir?"

"He will be fine…but it was very close." The elf lord dragged his hand over his face, a far away look covering his features. He murmured a phrase softly, almost to himself. "And now…now what do I do?"

His son's brows drew together in confusion. "_Ada?_"

Elrond was brought back with a jerk at the sound of the young elf's voice. "Nothing… just talking to myself." He smiled briefly at Elladan. "Get some sleep, _ion nin_. We will rest here for tonight…and then tomorrow we shall decide our course of action."

Reluctantly, Elladan lay back against the sleeping roll one of the elves had brought him. Soon, his deepened breathing told the two older elves that he had fallen asleep.

"So…" Glorfindel tugged the edges of his cloak absently. "What _are_ we going to do tomorrow?"

" I don't know." Elrond's dark brows were pulled together in a V. "I can not leave Elrohir so soon…but we must go after Estel and Legolas…and I can not imagine Elladan being willing to stay behind."

Glorfindel snorted at the very idea. " Nor can I. However," he rose quickly and placed a hand on his Lord's shoulder. "It is as you said, _hir nin_. Get some rest. Tomorrow, we will decide what we shall do." With a comforting squeeze, the fair elf strode away.

With a sigh, Elrond rolled his own cloak into a pillow and lay down upon it. He stared up at the stars and wondered…and worried…

His youngest was still gone…

0-0-0-0

Aragorn blinked tiredly. He was exhausted beyond belief.

Sleep had been denied him for three days. And Legolas…

The elf twitched and moaned softly beneath the ranger's hands. Aragorn sighed, almost in despair.

Legolas had not improved.

Once good thing…they had stayed in the same place. Orchbeck had been completely willing to travel on the first night…until Aragorn had told him in no uncertain terms that Legolas would most likely die from being jostled around for long periods of time at this point. The same thing had happened on the second night…and the third…and now all that the young human wanted to do was lie down and sleep for a very long time…

Every night he fed the elf several leaves of the plant he had found. And every night he wondered if it was really having any effect at all. If anything, Legolas seemed to be growing a little worse.

Legolas groaned. He mumbled phrases, dropping in and out of elvish. Most of it was nonsense, and did not flow from one sentence to the next. Sweat stood out on his pale forehead.

Speaking of foreheads…Aragorn winced as he gently touched the tender, purple swelling on his own. Since they could not touch the elf, the orcs had taken to venting their frustration on him. He had, in fact, most likely become their favorite punching bag.

Ah, well. If he was going to be tired, why not bruised as well?

"Ar….Arago..rn…"

The silver eyes widened. "Yes…I'm here, _Mellon nin_. What is it?" This was the first time Legolas had said something intelligible since the ranger had returned with Orchbeck from gathering the plant he needed.

"Ara…gorn…" the blue eyes were actually focused, gazing at the human intently as the elf's body was racked with shudders. One long fingered hand lifted, reaching out.

Aragorn caught the hand tightly, his heart leaping in his excitement. Legolas actually seemed to see him…was reaching toward him… "I am here. Hold on." He pulled the elf into his arms, clutching him. "You will be alright." He could feel the heat of fever that seeped through the prince's thin tunic.

" I do…not know…if I can…" Legolas fever glazed eyes were fixed on the sky, looking towards the east. "Look…the sun rises…"

Indeed, as Aragorn turned his head to gazed in that direction, he saw the sky began to turn from dark blue to a lighter grayish color.

The orc guards around them hissed and croaked, unhappy at the rays of sunshine that were beginning to peak over the horizon.

"_Aniron i calad anor,_" Legolas said softly. "_Aniron…_"

A final shudder shook the lithe form.

Aragorn looked down in alarm. The prince was still, his body peaceful after the ordeal it had been put through. The first beams of sunlight lit in his hair, turning it into strands of spun gold. His fair skin seemed to glow softly in the early dawn. It lingered over his face.

Over his closed eyes.

A cry ripped from Aragorn's throat. He bent over the elf's still form, unheeding of the hair that fell over his forehead and into his eyes. "Legolas!"

It was too much.

Though he wished he could stop them…tears pooled in his silver eyes and fell down his cheeks, dripping into the prince's hair.

He could hear the orc guards laughing as they closed in around him. He could hear their taunts.

But for the moment, he simply did not care.

"Legolas!"

0-0-0-0

Elrond awoke with a start, his eyes flashing. "Estel!"

0-0-0-0

Ion nin- my son 

_Avo 'osto, pen neth.- Do not fear, young one._

_Lasto a nin, Elladan! Ada na hi- Listen to me, Elladan! Father(daddy) is here!_

_Mellon nin- My friend_

_Aniron i calad anor…aniron…-I desire the sunlight…I desire…_

0-0-0-0


	7. Night Falls

Elladan jerked into a sitting position, his grey eyes bleary with sleep. "_Ada? Man na den?"_ He yawned widely and pushed his tousled hair away from his face. "Is something wrong?" He looked towared his parent and froze. Elrond was sitting up, his back stiff, and rigid. His fingers clenched and unclenched slowly, digging long grooves into the dirt.

"_Ada?_" Elladan quickly scooted to his father's side. "What did you see?"

"Estel." Elrond passed a hand in front of his eyes, as though trying to dispel the images from his mind. "He was holding Legolas and calling to him." Fierce anger burned in the elf lord's gaze. "He was hurt. Both of them were."

Elladan felt his blood run cold at the harshness in his father's tone. "How badly?"

" I don't know." Elrond's voice was sharp with frustration. He sighed softly and leaned back onto his elbows, tilting his head and closing his eyes. "I don't know."

Dawn crept over the mountains, its rosy fingers pushing their way into the small camp. Several of the elves were stirring. Among them, was Elrohir. The dark haired twin groaned softly in his sleep, his hands twitching at his side. Elrond frowned as he heard his son. Elrohir should not be waking so soon…

"Ah…" the young elf gasped. "_Ai! Nae… Legolas!_" He thrashed weakly.

Alarmed, Elrond quickly moved to his son's side, accompanied by Elladan. "_Elrohir, lasto nin. Idh, ion nin…idh…_" Murmuring comfortingly, the elf lord quickly captured his son's flailing limbs, afraid he would hurt himself. Elladan assisted his father, speaking reassuringly to his brother as he did so.

" _Legolas na mae, gwanor nin, Legolas na mae."_

"No…" Elrohir struggled against the gentle hands. " _Estel…Estel na erui._"

0-0-0-0

"No!" Aragorn ignored the taunting of the orcs, his fingers desperately searching for a pulse. "Legolas…" he whispered softly. "_U-awartha nin si erui, Legolas…_"

He froze, his hand pressing at the base of the prince's throat. There. It was weak…but more importantly…it was steady. The ranger felt his own heart pound as he realized just what that meant. The elf's pulse was not leaping erraticly. It has settled into a normal rythym.

Legolas was not shuddering anymore.

As Aragorn watched, the fair being breathed deeply…easily. The dark haired man almost sobbed in relief. The fever had broken at last. "Oh, valar…" he choked as he cradled the limp form in his arms. "Sweet Eru…"

It didn't matter that he was a captive.

Sleep was the last thing on his mind.

The orcs could go hang for all he cared.

Legolas was alive…and it was a beautiful day.

0-0-0-0

Elrohir shook his head, and his eyes came into focus. "_Ada_?" His features twisted with confusion. "Elladan?"

Elrond loosed his hold slowly, nodding to his eldest to do the same. "We are here, Elrohir. How do you feel?"

The younger twin brushed a hand in front of his face, as though trying to push away the shadows the clustered around the edges of his sleep fogged mind. "Terrible." He tried to take a deep breath and groaned at the sharp pain that skittered over his chest. "I feel as though a troll has beaten my ribs with a rather large club." He grinned weakly. "The kind with those pointed spikes on them."

Elladan smiled down at his brother. "At least your sense of humor is intact."

A rather disdainful snort followed that statement. "Wonderful. I shall meet the Valar with the knowledge that though I died painfully, I retained my sense of humor."

"Now you are just being sarcastic."

"Really? I had not noticed."

"Oh, you lie!"

"Enough." Elrond fought back a grin of his own as he bent his dark head over his son, checking the bandages. It was truly amazing. The two had crawled through what appeared to be hell on Arda…yet they found the means to laugh at the end. He sighed deeply. Ah…if only it really was the end.

If only…

0-0-0-0

Aragorn watched the morning light filter through the leaves of the tree above him, scattering shadows across his face and torso. He leaned back with a heavy sigh against the rough bark of the trunk, tilting his head and closing his eyes. He was so…tired. His right hand rested across the chest of his companion. It rose and fell slowly, moving with the breathing of the elf.

Legolas had not woken, but then, Aragorn did not expect him too. The effects of the poison had wrecked havoc on the elf's body, and this was the first real sleep he had slipped into for three days. Small wonder that the prince's lids slid shut from sheer exhaustion.

The ranger glanced at the strip of cloth wound tightly around Legolas forearm. He grinned softly to himself. The elf would kill him when he found out, but the human had been forced to tear the fair prince's outer tunic into shreds for the bandage. After all, he no longer had his own shirt or cloak with him.

Legolas had loved that particular tunic.

His eyes drifted closed as he drank in the early morning sun's warmth. Slowly, he felt himself start to drift off. He smiled. Ah…sleep.

A shadow fell over the young ranger.

Ah…yes.

He peered upwards, keeping his face blank with an effort.

Orchbeck glared at the human and the elf. "He's better." The orc's heavy shoe kicked Legolas' foot lightly. "We leaving tonight."

Alarm surged through Aragorn even as the orc captain strode away. Tonight? But Legolas was not strong enough…the fever had only just broken…what if the rough handling caused a relapse?

The human bit his lip lightly. This was not good…With a sigh, Aragorn checked Legolas' wounded arm. He peeled back the bandage he had fashioned from the elf's over tunic and nodded in satisfaction. The ugly, black tint was gone, indicating that the cut was finally healing.

The fair prince stirred at his friend's touch. His eyes opened slowly and he gazed up at the face above him. "Ar…Aragorn?"

Aragorn smiled, relieved to see the blue eyes open and focused.

A small, mischievious grin tweaked at the corners of Legolas' lips. "You look terrible." His gaze traveled over the ranger's weary, battered form. "What happened to you?"

Aragorn almost laughed. "We are in the midst of an orc camp, and you ask what has happened."

"Alright, so that was a stupid question."

"Truly." The dark haired man's grin faded as he gazed down at the elf. The prince was smiling, but Aragorn could tell that he was still very weak. Over the past few days, the human had forced what liquid and food he could into his patient, but more often than not, it had simply made a return appearance. "How do you feel?"

The elf's mischievious smile widened. "Now who is asking stupid questions?" He saw Aragorn frown and relented. "I feel fine. Thank you for your concern."

The ranger's eyebrow shot up to his hairline.

It was incredible, Legolas thought sourly, just how much the human looked like his foster father when he donned that particular expression. It had to be something that was only learned by the Noldor. Certainly no _Silvan_ elf would be able to convey complete and total disbelief with the twitch of a muscle.

"You feel…fine." Aragorn smiled somewhat dangerously. "In that case, you wouldn't mind sitting up for me."

No, he wouldn't mind. It was just that his head would start spinning on his shoulders if he tried. Then there was the sadistic dwarf that was lying in wait to pummel him with a rather large hammer should he attempt to move. It always seemed to happen that way. Everything felt fine…and then he would move and the dwarf would leap forward with an evil squeal of glee. "Of course not." The elf prince quickly hoisted himself up on his elbows and pushed against the ground. He grinned at the human smugly. "Sat…" the world spun alarmingly in his vision. He clamped his lids shut and counted to ten. When he cautiously cracked an eye open everything had become stationary once more. "…isfied?"

"You must be kidding." Aragorn sighed as he realised that the elf was indeed serious. He pressed a hand against his friend's shoulder, gently pushing the fair prince back down. "Rest while you can _mellon nin._" He glanced at the orc guards surrounding them and sighed again. "I do not think you are going to get another chance."

0-0-0-0

Shaza watched his commander stride towards him. An evil smile lingered over the orc's face. He had seen the elf. They would be leaving tonight.

And now…He licked his lips hungrily. The elf was well. He would improve. They did not need the ranger any longer. And the company of orcs still longed for blood.

Orchbeck nodded to his second in command. "Tell the troops to be prepared. We leave as soon as it's dark."

"Certainly…captain?" Orchbeck turned as Shaza called after him.

"What?"

"The ranger…we don't need him. The elf is too weak to resist us, and he is well now."

Orchbeck nodded. "Kill him."

Shaza's eyes gleamed maliciously. "Let us have some fun with him first. Tonight, before we get going."

The orc captain considered for a moment. The idea of any further delay chafed at him…they had already lost three days…yet, they were in no particular hurry. There was no reason he should not grant this request. It would satisfy the blood craving of his troops somewhat, and that would make it so much easier to get to Mirkwood with the elf intact.

Besides…this promised to be amusing.

0-0-0-0

"No."

Elrohir scowled ferociously. Seated beside him, Elladan's face mirrored his twin's. "You can not be serious, _Ada_."

Elrond fought back a wave of impatience with his offspring. " I am indeed, most serious. Elrohir is definitely in no shape to travel, and you are not in the best condition either. Therefore, it would be reasonable for the both of you to stay here with a small group of elves, while I go with the rest to find Estel and Legolas."

"No," Elrohir repeated firmly. " You can not ask us to remain…"

"Perhaps I am not asking," The elf lord said grimly. "I _can _order both of you to comply. I _am_ your father after all."

Neither twin moved, their eyebrows drawn together in fierce frowns.

Glorfindel strode forwards slowly, hesitant to interrupt what was obviously an argument between the young elves and their parent. "_Hir nin_?"

"Yes?" Elrond looked up with the expression of someone who was close to being pushed past all their limits.

The blond elf smiled a little insincerely. Oh he just knew that something like this was going to happen. They would not be the twins unless they argued about a descision that was made for their own good. "May I speak with you?"

"Of course," Elrond rose to his feet and strode towards his second in command. He shot a scathingly stern glance over his shoulder at his sons. "We will continue this conversation shortly."

Elladan watched their father walk away and snorted softly. "This is absurd." He picked up a small stone from the ground and threw it moodily. "I am fine. There is nothing that a short time of rest will not heal." He glared at his parent's back.

Elrohir sighed softly. "I know. I wish to go as well." Late afternoon light was creeping into the mountain paths, playing over the younger twin's features. Elladan turned to look at his brother just as the light fell across Elrohir's eyes. The words he had been about to speak died on his tongue. For a moment, he could only stare.

"Elrohir…" he finally said in a hushed voice.

Elrohir blushed and tried to turn from his brother's searching gaze, but Elladan would have none of it. Very gently, yet also firmly, Elladan captured the younger twin's face between his hands. The grey eyes that looked at him were filled with pain. Yet it was not physical pain…

"I wish to go," Elrohir repeated softly. "But I can not." He laughed somewhat bitterly. "I can not even rise." The fingers of his right hand clenched tightly. "Estel needs help…and Legolas…" he pounded the dirt with his fist in frustration. "And I can not move from this spot!"

Elladan grimaced. He could feel his brother's frustration as though it were his own. Opening his mouth to say something, the older twin was cut off by their father's return.

Elrond seated himself beside Elrohir and sighed. "Glorfindel found the orc's trail."

Elladan and his brother exchanged glances. "So we will be leaving soon?" the eldest asked tentatively. He saw his father's brows draw together and sighed, preparing himself for the argument he knew would follow.

"_Ada_," Elrohir suddenly interjected. "This is pointless. You know that if you order Elladan to remain, he will follow you nonetheless." The younger twin's smile had a slightly bitter edge. "And if I could, so would I."

The elf lord gave in with a deep sigh. "Very well."

0-0-0-0

Red light flowed through the evening sky, tainting the gathering clouds a deep ruby hue.

Like blood.

Thunder rolled ominously. Fat thunderheads started to pile up along the horizon. The air was still….the calm before the storm.

Legolas shifted uneasily. He eyed the surrounding orcs with growing apprehension. Throughout the day, his keen hearing had picked up whispers among their captors…rumors of 'sport' that would take place that night. It worried him.

A fork of lightning flickered across the sky.

The elf's eyes moved to his friend. He was worried for the ranger.

Aragorn lay against the tree, his eyes half closed, obviously not completely awake. Several strands of dark hair lay over his forehead. He shivered slightly, and Legolas frowned. In caring for his friend, the young human had been neglecting himself. Of course, most of the bruises and other injuries he had sustained were not his fault. Like the cut that ran the length of his arm…

The boom of the approaching storm startled Legolas. Everything was growing dark so quickly. The sun sank behind the mountains at what seemed to be twice the normal speed, as though she wished to avoid seeing what was about to take place.

A whisper of glee spread through the orcs. It was evil. Malicious. The kind of wicked joy that Legolas had seen reflected in the eyes of vicious warlords, and the ferocity that clung to wild animals.

The elf could see two orcs approaching, and he felt his stomach lurch as he recognized them. "Aragorn." Legolas shook the ranger slightly. "Aragorn, wake up." As the young human's eyes opened, the prince nodded in the direction of the oncoming orcs. "We are about to have company."

Orchbeck and Shaza strolled up to the two friends. Orchbeck's feautures were blank, his gaze shrewd and calculating as he stared at his captives. As for Shaza…

Aragorn shuddered as the second in command's eyes fell on the young ranger. The orc was staring at the young man as though he were an extremely tasty haunch of venison. Evil aniticipation hovered in the depths of the creature's nasty smile.

Legolas noticed the look and felt his own skin crawl. This could not be good…

Orchbeck nodded to the guards and they immediately stepped forwards. Legolas and Aragorn were jerked roughly to their feet. Aragorn stood still as ropes were wound around his hands, wincing slightly as they were drawn cruelly tight.

Legolas, on the other hand, could not stand at all. His knees buckled as soon as the orc released his arm, and he crashed back to the ground. With his hands tied, the prince could not catch himself, and he split his lip on the unforgiving earth.

"Legolas!" Aragorn tried to kneel at his friend's side, but two orcs gripped his upper arms firmly, their clawed hands digging into his skin.

" I am alright," Legolas managed as he was once again hauled to his feet. This time, his captors kept their hold, ensuring that their prize would not be overly injured. Orchbeck grinned nastily at the prince.

"Careful…careful little elf. Wouldn't want you to get hurt before it's time, would we? Wouldn't want the little prince of Mirkwood to fall into harms way, eh?" He laughed at the horrified expression that Legolas could not repress. "Thought we didn't know who you were?" His laughter turned bitter. "You're the very picture of your father, may he rot in a black hole with rats gnawing at his bones. You may not remember me, little prince, but I remember you. Oh, yes. I've seen you lead the elves into battle. A little captain in your father's army, perhaps? Well my petted elfling, don't worry. You'll see your father again soon." The orc captain reached out, wiping away the blood that trickled from the fair prince's lip with twisted gentleness. "I will enjoy making his life…and yours…a living hell."

The yellow eyes drifted from the elf to the human. "Let's start now, shall we?" He motioned to his company.

The orcs grasping the dark haired man's arms released their hold and moved back slightly. Meanwhile, the rest of the creatures closed in, like wolves surrounding a wounded deer.

Very hungry…evil… wolves.

"You see," Orchbeck continued, almost conversationally, "while I need you…I don't need him." His black clawed fingers gestured towards the ranger. "And my boys want a bit of fun." The yellow eyes swept over Legolas' weak frame, held upright only by the two guards. "There's not much you can do about it now, is there?"

For a moment, Legolas eyes met Aragorn's. He could see the young man standing amidst the evil horde. His hands bound in front of him, bare shoulders rising and falling with every breath. His dark hair whipped around his face in the wind that had sprung up, carrying on it the scent of rain.

Lightning flashed followed by an almost instantaneous rumble of thunder. The lightning reflected in the ranger's eyes…

With a crow of hideous laughter, the orcs moved in on their captive.

0-0-0-0

Aragorn stood firm, his eyes on the enemy advancing on him. Shaza led them at the very front, his knife reflecting the lightning that forked across the blackened sky.

The orc hissed in pleasure and leapt forwards, knife extended. Aragorn spun to his right. As Shaza stumbled past him, the ranger brought his bound hands down on the back of the creatures neck as hard as he could. Shaza fell face first in the dirt, his knife tumbling from his hand. Before the orc could recover, Aragorn pounced on the weapon. He brought it up just in time to stab it awkwardly through the gut of a charging enemy. Black blood gushed over his bound hands, making his hold on the knife slippery…

0-0-0-0

Legolas watched anxiously, his eyes wide with torment. This should not be happening! The very idea that his friend was suffering because of him made the elf sick with grief and guilt.

Yet Aragorn seemed to be doing well so far…a weapon in hand and already one enemy slain… As Aragorn ripped the knife from his enemy's carcass, Legolas saw another jump at his friend's back.

"Aragorn! Behind you!"

0-0-0-0

Aragorn spun in response to Legolas' warning…just in time to take the full weight of the orc that had leapt at him. Fortunately, he had the sense to hold the knife out, and the creature's own momentum impaled it through the throat.

Unforunately, the same momentum carried the ranger to the ground, driving the wind out of his lungs as he hit the earth. He struggled desperately against the dead weight…but could hear the rest of the orcs closing in…

0-0-0-0

Orchbeck spun on Legolas and backhanded the prince savagely. Stars danced in front of the elf's eyes…threatening to pull him down and into blackness. He shook his head violently. No! He had to keep his eyes on Aragorn…there had to be something he could do…

Legolas brought his head up in time to see the horde close in.

"No!"

0-0-0-0

Aragorn heaved the orc corpse off awkardly, his bound hands impeding his movements. Clawed fingers grabbed at his shoulder. The black nails dug deeply into the soft flesh, and Aragorn gasped. He thrust over the shoulder with his knife, feeling slightly satisfied as the blade bit deeply into the twisted monster's arm. The orc screamed.

The ranger's satisfaction ebbed somewhat as the hands ripped themselves away from his shoulder,(taking some of it with them) and knocking the knife out of his fingers. He leapt to his feet…

Aragorn felt his heart sink down to the bottom of his boots. He was surrounded. Completely and totally. They were not about to make the mistake of letting him obtain a weapon again. He could hear, with the very edge of his consciousness, Legolas' voice crying out to him.

Without warning, despair sunk deeply into his mind. Three days with no sleep caught up with a suddeness that left him weak. Blood dripped from his wounded shoulder, streaking down his torso to fall to the ground. He was simply too tired….there was no way…

Thunder rolled menacingly, and the orcs tightened their circle.

0-0-0-0

Legolas stuggled uselessly against his captors. He was too weak. There was no way he would be able to pull himself free of their grip, much less help his friend. He watched, horrified, as a look of exhausted hopelessness spread across the young ranger's bruised face. "_Dartho! Dartho, Aragorn! Avo bado dín mi dú!"_

At the sound of the elvish tongue, Orchbeck landed another blow to the side of the prince's head, his black nails breaking the flesh. Blood oozed from the scratches, but Legolas ignored the pain. His attention was focused entirely on the dark haired man.

0-0-0-0

Aragorn heard the clear sound of Legolas' voice.

He fought…but he could not overcome the sheer force of number that was thrown at him.

Dragged to his knees, he was held down by at least three of the vile creatures. A fourth wound it's gnarled fingers into his sweaty locks, yanking back until the ranger was forced to tilt his head up towards the sky. He felt the cold steel of a blade at his throat. Any moment now…it would come down swiftly and his life would drain away into the dirt.

But it did not.

Shaza appeared at the ranger's side, his ugly face twisted into an even uglier leer. Only by squinting out of the corner of his eye could Aragorn see him at all…and what he saw did not comfort him.

The orc fondled a knife of his own, stroking the surface as though it was a beloved pet. Or perhaps the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

It was knotched, like a barbed arrow. Something that was meant to enter flesh easily…but to remove it would be another story. Cold sweat broke out on the human's brow. He knew what instruments like that were used for.

Shaza leaned close, almost licking his lips in anticipation. "How long do you think it will take, human?" he whispered into Aragorn's ear. "How long before you scream? You know…we never could get more than a whisper out of the elf. Will you be like him? Or…" the knife slid down Aragorn's side, scraping over the young man's muscles lightly. "Will you beg for mercy before the end?"

Aragorn bit his lip, willing himself not to make a sound. Not for the sake of his pride…but for Legolas. He did not want the elf to know how badly they hurt him. He did not want any more guilt added onto the burden he knew his friend was already shouldering.

His eyes wandered over the heads of the orc…and there was his friend. He could see the tangled blond hair falling over the prince's face…blue eyes filled with such grief and rage it was a miracle that Orchbeck and all his followers weren't frying at this moment…

The edge of the blade dug into his skin. He gasped, eyes widening. Shaza wasn't slicing…he was pushing the length of the thing ever so slowly into Aragorn's body.

"Hurts, doesn't it?" Shaza sneered into the young man's upturned face.

The ranger winced as Shaza pushed a little harder, but dared not twist too much. The blade against his throat held him quite firmly in place.

"Just scream," the orc hissed into his ear. "One scream…and I may end this quickly."

But Aragorn remained silent, grinding his teeth together with the effort it took.

Incensed, Shaza ripped the barbed blade free.

The human gasped as searing pain raced all the way up his rib cage. He could not see the damage the knife had done, but knew instantly that the knife had created a much bigger hole being pulled out than when it had been put in.

Shaza traced the tip of the heinous weapon across Aragorn's cheek, leaving a narrow trail of the ranger's own blood. It stood out brilliantly against the pale skin.

The human winced as Shaza pressed a little harder, cutting a thin line all the way from the young man's cheekbone to his chin. "Shall I take one of these?" The orc dangled the dagger bare centimeters from Aragorn's eye. "Perhaps you would scream then…hmm?

" Or maybe if I took an ear…" the blade nipped unpleasantly at the edge of Aragorn's right ear.

"Or a finger." A line of fire traveled all the way down the ranger's arm from his shoulder to his wrist. 'Wonderful,' a small part of his mind commented wryly. 'It just had to be my _other_ arm…' He was quickly distracted though as, without waiting for the sting of this new injury to die down, Shaza dug his claw-like nails into the gash.

Aragorn almost cried out at the new pain, but bit his tongue at the last moment. He could not let Legolas know…

"Yes…that's it…" Shaza's eyes lit with excitement. He almost had what he wanted… "Go on…"

The ranger choked as Shaza's blade started to press at his ribs once more. Digging inch by painful inch inwards. His eyes clouded over with pain as they sought some comfort…something to which he could anchor his remaining strength…

Images danced before him. Times from long ago flooded his mind as his consciousness shied away from reality.

He remembered…a night when he had been young…he had followed his brothers when they had gone merrymaking, despite his father's orders to remain in bed. The night had been warm for spring…and he had hid in a tree from his brothers, content to listen to the elves singing.

A tree that had happened to be directly underneath a certain guest's window…

He remembered the hobbit and the jesting of the elves as they realized that they had woken the small fellow…

The dagger was ripped free once more.

Aragorn raised his voice…not in a scream…but a song.

He could only remember the last verse the elves had sung that night…yet somehow it seemed to fit…

_Sigh no more Pine, till the wind of the morn!_

_Fall moon! Dark be the land!_

_Hush! Hush! Oak, Ash, and Thorn!_

_Hushed be all water, till dawn is at hand!_

A roar of rage rose in his ears. Somethind hard crashed against his temple, the darkness rushed up to swallow him, and he knew nothing more.

0-0-0-0

Legolas heard the sound of Strider's voice raised in song for a brief moment. One moment…and then the orcs' howl of rage drowned out the melody. He saw them surge inwards, beating at the ranger in their anger.

"Aragorn!" Adrenaline surged through the elf's weakened body, almost giving him the strength he needed to break free. Almost.

"Stop!" Shaza beat back the orcs angrily. "Stop! You fools!"

Gradually, the maddened creatures drew back, reluctantly leaving their victim.

Legolas felt his heart plunge and twist painfully. That crumpled figure on the ground…it could not be Aragorn…it could not…it had to be one of the orcs…

Lightning flashed, and for a second, the ring of Barahir glinted in the light. The ring that was attached to the hand of the figure that could not be Aragorn…and who could not be otherwise.

Shaza bent over the limp body. His features distored with pure rage. "Idiots! You killed him!"

"Are you sure he's dead?" one of the orcs questioned.

Without a word, Shaza swiped roughly at the side of Aragorn's head. His hand came up wet with blood.

Legolas felt sick.

"Here," another orc stepped forward, drawing a blade as he moved. "Just to make sure."

Legolas' eyes were riveted to the sword the orc swung high. He recognized that blade. It was Aragorn's, the one the twins had given him.

The orc brought the weapon down heavily, stabbing through the ranger's shoulder and pinning the body to the ground.

There was no movement. No sound. Nothing that would indicate life.

The elf prince choked. As surely as though the creature had passed the blade through the fair being's own flesh…he felt the pain. For a moment, he was sure his heart had literally been torn in two.

"Come on then," Orchbeck nodded to the orcs who restrained Legolas. "You've had your fun. Let's not waste anymore time." He leered horribly at the prince. "Wouldn't want to keep your dear father waiting."

Legolas struggled, but there was nothing he could do. Lightning forked through the sky as the fair elf was dragged away. It reflected along the gleaming blade protruding from the ranger's body and highlighted his still, pale face.

The orc who had stabbed Aragorn reached out to retrieve the sword, only to have his hand caught in a vice like grip. Orchbeck glared at his subordinate. "The weapon is elvish," he spat angrily. "Leave it."

Twisting his head, Legolas managed to catch sight of Aragorn one last time before he was thrown over an orc's shoulder and carted off like a sack of potatoes.

Broken…bloodied…his own sword pinning him to the earth. Hot tears scalded the elf's blue eyes. This was not supposed to happen… Perhaps he did cry out….or perhaps he only thought he did. Perhaps the only sound that crossed his lips was the name that he had clung to when reason had fled.

"Aragorn…"

0-0-0-0

With a final rumble, the sky burst open and poured down it's rain in silvery sheets,

as though Arda herself wept for the young ranger's fate.

_0-0-0-0_

_Ada, man na den?- Father(daddy), what is it?_

_Legolas na mae, gwanor nin, Legolas na mae.- Legolas is well, my brother, Legolas is well._

_Estel na erui- Estel is alone._

_Dartho! Dartho, Aragorn! Avo bado dín mi dú!- Hold on! Hold on, Aragorn! Do not go quietly into the night!_


	8. Through the Storm

Elladan glanced towards the rapidly darkening sky. His grey eyes narrowed as lightning flashed, followed by the kettledrum of thunder. Their plans had been changed. Fearing that the orc's trail would be washed away in the oncoming storm, Elrond had reluctantly decided to leave at once.

Elladan could see the indescision that tore at his father's heart, and he sympathized. He too, was torn. Torn between two brothers. He could not imagine what it would be like to be torn between two children. He hoped he would never have to find out.

Surprisingly, Elrohir had been insistent that they leave at once.

The elder twin seated himself beside his brother, pushing his long dark hair behind his ears as he did so. "We will be leaving soon. The warriors are preparing the horses."

"Good." Elrohir did not look at his twin. His eyes were fixed on the turbulent clouds that seemed to fill the sky. Lightning flashed…reflecting within his eyes.

For a moment…Elladan swore he did not see Elrohir, but it was Aragorn. The eyes were wide…frightened…

The image faded as Elladan shook his head, frowning.

Elrohir finally turned to his brother. "Elladan…please…promise you will find him."

The dark haired elf was taken aback at the pleading note in his younger brother's voice. "Of course!" he assured. " Did you expect anything else?" He saw the worry in Elrohir's face. Something was definitely eating at his twin… "_Gweston, gwanor nin. _I will find him."

Elrohir bit at his lip and turned away once more. A cool wind whipped through the loose strands of raven hair, blowing them across the fair face.

"Elrohir…" Elladan touched his twin's shoulder lightly. "What did you see?" He felt Elrohir tense beneath his fingers. " Is it your dream that disturbs you so greatly?" he probed gently.

"Yes." Elrohir's voice was flat. He would not meet his brother's gaze. "I saw…Estel…" the young elf's voice shook for a moment. Quickly he recovered and continued. "Estel was hurt…was _being_ hurt…the orcs were crowding in…I called to Legolas, but he could not help.

"An orc raised a sword…I…I saw him stab Estel…and Legolas was pulled away." Elrohir's wide eyes turned upwards, taking in the lightning that forked brilliantly across the black clouds. His voice dropped to a whisper. "It was raining." He turned to Elladan slowly.

Elladan was struck by the torment he saw raging in the dark gray eyes. Eyes that seemed to have taken on the very life of the storm itself…

"And then they left him all alone."

0-0-0-0

Elrond watched his sons silently. He could not hear their conversation…but could guess what it was about from their expressions. He sighed.

Estel.

The elf lord's heart twisted within him even as he thought of the human he considered to be his youngest child. He knew that Estel was in danger…was hurt…the ranger _needed_ him…

Elrond saw Elrohir wince as he tried to shift himself into a more comfortable position.

Elrohir needed him too.

He should not be leaving so soon… what if something happened? Elrond pressed his long fingers against his temples, willing the nightmare to end…

What was the use of being an elf lord, he wondered bitterly, when you could not be in two places at once?

A gently hand landed on the dark haired elf's shoulder. He turned, surprised out of his thoughts.

Glorfindel gazed at him steadily. The second in command's eyes were… sympathetic? Understanding? The blond elf lord nodded towards the twins. "_Avo 'osto, Hir nin._" He tried to smile reassuringly. "I will watch over him."

For a moment, Elrond smiled sadly. "_Iston, mellon nin. Iston."_

0-0-0-0

Elladan pulled himself onto his horse with a swift heave. As though sensing his master's agitated frame of mind, the animal pranced nervously, whickering in distress. Elladan hastily stroked the long mane and whispered a few words in elvish.

Elves all around him were kicking their heels into their steed's flanks. They were moving out quickly. Elrond gave Elrohir one last look, then turned and allowed his horse to carry him away.

Elladan caught his brother's eye. For a brief moment, they remained motionless.

'Find him.'

Elladan could not hear the words over a booming roll of thunder, but he saw Elrohir's lips move. Another shaft of lightning lit the sky eerily.

"_Gweston,_" he whispered softly.

Another whisper seemed to travel on the wind, winding through the night. A desperate plea for help? A cry to one who could not hear? A name…

"Aragorn…"

As the young elf turned his horse and urged it forwards, the clouds broke, and Elladan felt his heart sink.

It was raining.

0-0-0-0

Legolas gasped as he landed on the muddy ground. The orc who had been carrying him snarled something unpleasant before kicking the bound elf and turning his eyes toward the front of the company.

The pouring rain had not let up through the long night. Indeed, if anything, the deluge had increased. Mud covered the fair elf from head to foot, kicked up by the pounding orc's feet.

Legolas did not even register the fact that he was incredibly filthy. Such things had simply ceased to matter…

A rushing sound filled his ears. Confused, the prince looked up, squinting through the sheets of rain. His eyes widened.

They had reached the Anduin.

Legolas slowly struggled to his knees. His heart sank even as he watched the rain swollen river rush by. He had not realised that they were so close to his home. Once they crossed the Anduin, it was less than a day's journey to the edge of Mirkwood.

Mirkwood…

Cold seemed to slice through the prince's thin tunic. He shuddered. Though the low temperature did not usually bother him, elf as he was,…tonight…

_Aragorn's silver eyes stared at him, wide with frightened anticipation._

Legolas choked as the horrible memories swamped his mind. Orchbeck was shouting something from the front of the company, but the elf was not attending. He could see the look on his friend's face as Shaza approached him with that blade…

A hand twisted itself into the prince's sodden locks, jerking Legolas to his feet.

"Here, we're tired of carting you. Walk a little on your own." The orc that had caught a hold of the fair being's hair laughed heartily and gave the elf a shove.

Legolas stumbled, but remained standing. He shot a murderous glare at the orc. "_Chebo ber lin ello nin, orch,_" the prince spat angrily.

The orc in question angrily raised a hand to strike…but was halted by his captain.

Orchbeck grinned nastily at the dripping prince, the rain flowing from his own ugly features. "Careful…careful. If I'm to have my revenge, I need you to be fresh. Wouldn't want you to show up for your father all bruised. It will be so much more enjoyable if he sees us inflict the bruises…and other injuries." The grin widened as an evil glint appeared in the yellow eyes.

Legolas ignored the shudder that desperately wanted to race down his spine. He masked his fear, hardening his features. Blue eyes met yellow…

And they revealed nothing.

Nothing of the pain that tore at his heart…nothing of the sorrow that came from losing his best friend. Nothing of the fear for his kingdom, or for his father.

Mirkwood's heir stood proudly under the pouring rain. His heart in shreds, his mind devoured by worry.

And Orchbeck could not see it.

_0-0-0-0_

Orchbeck felt his good mood slipping away as he looked at the elf. How could the creature still be so proud? What would it take to break his composure?

Rain dripped from the fair features, sliding down pale cheeks. Blond hair was clumped with mud. His thin undertunic was soaked through, molding itself to his lithe form.

He was weak. Orchbeck could see it clearly. The poison had taken quite a toll on the young elf…and yet for all of that, he seemed to be recovering remarkably well. Orchbeck marveled at it. He had known of elves healing abilities, yet he had never had a chance to witness them first hand. He reached out and roughly ripped the makeshift bandage from Legolas' arm.

Amazing.

The wound was almost closed.

"You're healing quickly," he hissed softly, malevolently. "So much the better." His eyes lit up once more as he thought of the elf's father…and how badly he could hurt the golden king through his son. Oh, how he longed for his revenge. And it would be sweet. So sweet. He smirked for a moment, reveling in dark daydreams, before returning his mind to the present. A scowl reappeared on his face as he focused on the stoic features of the being before him. There had to be something, someway to get through to this disgustingly calm little…a cruel notion sprang into his head.

"The ranger died without a sound," he said quietly. "Will you be as brave? Or…" Teeth flashed in a vicious grin. "Will you cry for death? I must say, I do hope you make _some_ noise before the end. Killing can be almost…boring when your victims don't scream." No reaction. The infuriating creature continued to stare straight through him. He narrowed his eyes and glared at the elven prince. Perhaps it was time to twist the knife blade a little deeper…he leaned in closer to his captive, whispering with the air of one disclosing a secret. "You know, I'm not completely sure he was even dead when we left." The blue eyes locked on him with sudden intensity. Orchbeck sneered slightly. "But even if he wasn't, after a night in this storm, and with a head wound like that…" He shook his head in mock sympathy. "He'll certainly never see another dawn." Ah, at last. A reaction. Slight, but noticable. The barest crack in the stone-like façade. Enough to peer through the wall and see the weakness that lay within…

Smiling inwardly at his success, the captain prepared his final blow. He straightened and shrugged. "Ah, but then again, I suppose you simply do not care. After all, he was only human."

The elf winced, a flash of pain spreading across his features.

Orchbeck grinned evily.

"Let's go," he motioned to the orc beside him. "I want to be across the river before we stop." His smile turned predatory as he gazed at his captive. "Bring the elf."

0-0-0-0

Legolas fell to his knees on the other side of the Anduin, greedily gulping in air. His captors had not untied him for the crossing. Instead they had attached a short lead of rope to his bound hands and pulled him behind them.

Without the use of his arms to fight against the storm swelled waters, the prince was easily knocked off his feet. He had disappeared beneath the flow, only to be pulled upright or dragged for a ways underneath the foam countless times.

Now he lay, choking and gagging on the liquid he had swallowed. 'Interesting,' he thought darkly as he glanced back over his shoulder. 'I didn't think I left that much water in there…'

An orc pulled roughly on the lead, and Legolas staggered to his feet, drained. His weakness was starting to impede his movements. Fighting his way across the Anduin had _not_ helped. All he wanted to do at the moment was lay down and sleep for a very long time…

_Sigh no more Pine, till the wind of the morn…_

Then again…perhaps he never wished to sleep again. For he instinctively knew that what he had seen would haunt his dreams for the rest of his days.

The remainder of the night passed in a pain filled daze. Legolas walked and walked, his eyes slowly growing more and more heavy, his steps less graceful with every stride. The rain continued to pour down, creating a thick mud that caked the elf's boots.

When his captors finally stopped, Legolas was so numbed to his surrounding he almost walked into the orc that held his 'leash'.

"Rest while you can," the orc pushed Legolas in the center of his chest, sending the elf crashing to the ground. He laughed nastily as he undid the lead and wound it tightly around the prince's ankles. "You probably won't get another chance. Not if Orchbeck has anything to say about it."

Legolas lay still, wanting only to rest his aching body…and more than his body, his aching heart. The mud squelched under him unpleasantly, the rain continued as hard as it had since Aragorn…the elf winced. He hadn't meant to think of that. But now that the thought had entered…it would not fade. It would not disolve into the mists of overwhelming weariness, but persisted, gnawing at him, battering his consciousness and promising to visit him in nightmares should he dare to seek peace in slumber. The horrible picture of his best friend dying cold and alone on this wild, dark night seared before his mind's eye.

Finally, the young elf could not resist the pull of his overtaxed body and succumbed to sleep.

0-0-0-0

Orchbeck looked down at the elf prince's still form and snorted in disgust. He bent, and with a flick of his wrist, neatly sliced a braid of hair free from the golden head. He glanced coldly at the sodden strands for a moment, then carelessly tossed the token to his messenger.

"Remember. Do _not_ get any closer than two hundred pace to the edge of Mirkwood. There will be elven patrols, and you know how they can shoot. Keep your distance and deliver the message. Return as soon as you have done so. Do you understand?" The captain held his subordinate's gaze for a moment, impressing how important this truly was.

The orc nodded and quickly trotted away.

Orchbeck nearly licked his lips in anticipation as he watched the messenger depart. Within a day…no more than two…his revenge would be realized.

Mirkwood's king would suffer. Oh yes. He would suffer greatly.

0-0-0-0

Thranduil paced his chambers with growing anxiety. His son had not yet returned, and the Elvenking was worried.

It took six days to journey to Rivendell with speed. Taking ones time, it could stretch to eight or nine. He knew Legolas enough to assume that while he was with his dear friends, the prince would not be in a hurry to return to Mirkwood.

And yet…

The fair king glanced down at his carpet and smiled wryly. Thank the Valar that elves did not weigh on the ground as men did. He would have worn holes in the rug by this time. Perhaps it was time to leave his chambers…walk outside…wear down the stones of his garden paths for a change.

His eyes strayed toward the large window. The rain still beat against the glass as if it were trying to enter the palace through force.

He sighed. Then again, inside was quite pleasant.

0-0-0-0

Halden shifted slightly on his perch. He was seated quite comfortably on a very large branch, leaning back against the tree trunk. The rain still poured around him, but thankfully, Mirkwood's trees grew so closely together that not much of the liquid was getting to the young elf.

Peering through the leaves surrounding him, the elf could see out into torrent. He smiled softly to himself. Though some elves did not enjoy being posted on the edges of the forest, Halden liked it. The woods were not so dark here as they were near the center. It reminded him of what Mirkwood had once been.

Something stirred, and Halden tensed.

There…something was approaching…The sentry quickly reached into his quiver and strung an arrow. Halden's blue eyes narrowed dangerously as he realised just what it was that was coming closer to his home. An orc! He hissed through his teeth, aiming carefully.

'Closer,' he thought as he watched the creature. 'Just a little closer…'

Three strides before he would come within the archer's ranger, the orc halted.

Halden snarled a dwarven curse. Of course. The stupid little monster had to stop _just_ there… "Come on," he whispered. "It won't hurt too badly, I promise."

"I know you're there," the orc called loudly, his nervous gaze belying his words. Halden almost laughed. Even his own Captains could not find him until he decided he was ready to _be_ found.

If this creature actually _could_ see him…he would eat his own bowstring. Then he would die of shame.

"I bring you a message from my captain." The orc's eyes shifted back and forth, trying to spot the elf he knew must be there. "He wishes to speak to your king."

Halden nearly fell from his branch as he doubled over with silent laughter. This was absurd! An orc speak to Thranduil! Wiping away tears of suppressed mirth, the elf carefully resighted his arrow.

"What do you say?"

Halden rolled his eyes. If the only way to get rid of this nuisance was to answer it… "Surely you jest, vermin. What reason have I to fetch my king for a conversation that can do him no good? Why should your captain speak to the ruler of Mirkwood? Answer me that, or you will soon find yourself with an arrow between your eyes." The elf prepared himself to leap down from his perch and charge the reckless orc.

"I bring you a token!" The creature's voice rose shrilly. His hand stretched out,…and dangling from his fingers… "Perhaps you recognize it. It belongs to your prince."

The sentry felt his heart seize up. A golden braid swung limply in the torrential rain, hanging from the gnarled fingers. Halden swallowed hard. "I see hair," he managed to make his voice cold and harsh. "It could belong to any elf. Or any human."

"My captain thought that you would say that." A glint of triumph appeared in the small rat-like eyes. He withdrew two shining blades from his belt and held them forward.

Halden felt his mouth drop open in shock. He knew those knives. How many times had he seen Legolas draw them? Sparring with young elves in the training grounds…fighting back the spiders…cleaning them meticulously by a campfire with his human friend, Strider…

"You recognize them, don't you?" The orc twirled the blades idly, watching raindrops spatter against the gleaming metal. With a swift move, he thrust the twin knives into the mud and threw the braid down next to them. "Tell your king. It will be in his son's best interest if he comes to this place as quickly as possible. My captain will be waiting."

Numbly, Halden watched as the orc disappeared into the pouring rain.

0-0-0-0

Thranduil leaned against the window and gloomily watched the downpour outside. His fingers trailed over the glass, tracing the paths of water that trickled like tears…

From this vantage point, he could see over the walls into the woods. Dark and shadowy…and wet. 'Just like everything else,' the king thought sourly.

And…moving. Thranduil straightened, his eyes narrowing.

An elf stumbled from the edge of the trees, sprinting toward the gates. There was something urgent in his movements that sent a spike of fear racing through the Elvenking's system. Did this have something to do with Legolas…?

For the life of him, Thranduil could never remember how he managed to get to the gates so quickly. All he knew was that he was sprinting across the courtyard, hearing the guards demanding to know the identity of the elf.

"_Edro_!" The Elvinking yelled as he neared his gates. Without a sound, they swung open, cutting off the questioning of the guards.

Halden stumbled in, almost sobbing in his attempt to draw in air. Thranduil leapt forwards, catching the young elf as he collapsed. Horrified, the fair king stared down at the sentry. He knew that Halden had been assigned to the outer reaches of the woods, near the Anduin…and it appeared that the warrior had run all the way back to the palace.

"Sire…" Halden's voice was rough, his lungs still desperately struggling to bring in the oxygen he needed. He had pushed himself too hard. Too far.

"Rest," Thranduil supported the elf, taking the other's weight on himself. His heart screamed to know the reason for his subject's condition…but he could not force it…the elf so obviously needed rest…

"NO!" Halden pulled himself upright. "No…time…your majesty…" he thrust something into the Elvenking's hand.

Thranduil looked down at the object, confused.

Then suddenly, realization dawned, and time seemed to freeze around him.

It was perfectly innocent in and of itself…really, nothing that would seem so horrible. But when it was connected with the exhausted elf he saw before him…with the feeling of unease that had been crawling through his subconscious for the past few days…

A golden braid lay curled in his palm.

_0-0-0-0_

_Gweston, gwanor nin- I swear, my brother_

_Avo osto, hir nin- Do not fear, my lord._

_Iston, mellon nin, iston.- I know, my friend, I know._

_Chebo ber lin ello nin, orch!- Keep your hands from me, orc!_

_Edro- Open_

_0-0-0-0_


	9. Finding Estel

Elladan glanced sideways at his father, his face worried. They had followed the orc's trail until the storm had washed away much of what was. However, Elladan knew without a doubt that this was the way the orcs had come. Every so often they would come across a clue that let them know they were traveling in the right direction.

Orc prints sheltered from the rain by an outcropping of rock…a piece of rough cloth torn on some briars…the stench.

It seemed to rise from the very ground they had trod. A fouling of Arda's soil. Above all else, this was what made him sure of their path. He was as certain of this as he was that the sun would rise in the East.

Speaking of which…

The storm clouds that had dogged their footsteps had finally broken apart, drifting away and allowing a sliver of early morning sun to dance about their company.

Unfortunately, the light revealed no sign of Legolas or Estel. Elladan's mouth tightened. He knew that Legolas' light feet would have no hope of leaving a print, but he had hoped that Estel would find a way to mark the trail for any who followed. It disturbed the young elf lord that there was no sign that the human had even tried.

He glanced at his father once more. Apparently, the same thoughts were occuring to the elder elf. His gray eyes were dark, clouded over with something akin to despair…almost as black as the storm that had, until just recently, been so fond of their company.

Elladan kicked his heels lightly into his horse's side, urging it forward until he came even with the Elf lord. "_Ada_." He gripped his father's shoulder reassuringly. "We _will_ find them." A small smile tipped the younger elf's mouth as he made a desperate stab at levity. "I promised Elrohir. And he will kill me if I do not keep my word."

Without a sound, Elrond reached up and placed his hand over his son's, accepting the strength offered. His mind clung to his eldest's words. He had no choice but to believe them.

Perhaps no father would.

0-0-0-0

It was cold.

Cold and wet.

His body shivered, awakening a whole new sensation.

Pain. And quite a lot of it actually.

Silver eyes opened slowly, blinking rapidly against the early morning light filtering through the trees above him. He hurt so badly…why? A low moan fought to make it out of his throat, but he ground his teeth together, squelching the sound. It seemed very important that he do this…but for the life of him he could not recall why… He quickly decided it didn't matter as it was eclipsed in his thinking by the pain… His head…ribs…shoulder…especially the shoulder…all apparently stuck full of very small knives or very large pins…he couldn't decide, but it was excruciating either way.

Hazy images flickered through his mind as he struggled to remember.

Lightning…orcs…fighting…Shaza…the knife…Legolas… The eyes went wide as memories crystalized. "Legolas!" He tried to leap up…

The wave of pain that exploded from his shoulder almost robbed him of breath. Almost. For a few minutes an interesting mix of Dwarven and Sindarin curses very nearly turned the air blue.

The ranger groaned as he forced himself to relax back against the muddy ground. What was wrong with him? Whatever it was, he needed to discover the cause…

He squinted at his shoulder. The bleary gaze locked on something shimmering and he spent the next several seconds bullying his brain into accepting what his eyes were telling him. In the end, it reluctantly aquiesed, and after a few moments he swallowed hard and turned his head away. It was a rather disturbing thing to see ones own sword protruding from one's shoulder.

At least that explained why he could not rise.

He was pinned to the ground.

0-0-0-0

Elladan slid from his horse, patting the creatures nose as he strode forwards. All around him, the rest of the company did likewise.

They were approaching a small copse of trees. Elladan grimaced as he walked. The ground was literally covered with orc prints. The twisted little monsters had evidently spent quite a lot of time here. Not only was the grass flattened…the young elf lord felt his expression of disgust slide into one of sorrow. The trees…his hand gently stroked the trunk of one, lingering over the ugly slash that ripped off a good half foot of bark. Many of the trees had been treated in a like manner. Their limbs had been hewed off roughly…not for firewood. They were flung to the ground beside the roots of the tree they came from.

The young elf was grieved and angered at the destruction. He could tell he was not the only one who felt thus. Quite a few of the other elves stopped beside a mangled tree, their faces drawn with sorrow at the wanton mutilation of the nature they so loved.

There could be no doubt that it was orcs that had done this. They were the only creatures so inclined to destroy all that was good and fair. Aside from that, they had left much to prove their presence.

An abandoned firepit…the leavings of an orc meal (Elladan quickened his pace as he passed these)…a broken dagger of obvious orc make…

Yet there was no sign of Estel or Legolas.

The young elf hastened forwards, eager to find something… anything…a glitter caught his eye.

There…something was reflecting the light of the sun. Metal.

And not just any metal.

Elladan felt his heart sink to the very bottom of his boots. It was a sword. The sword he and Elrohir had given Estel when the human had reached sixteen years of age. The sword that his younger brother had carried with him everywhere since that day.

The sword that now appeared to be stabbed through a crumpled and lifeless body.

"Estel!"

0-0-0-0

Aragorn shifted uncomfortably, trying once again to reach the hilt of his weapon. No luck. The ranger allowed his hand to fall back to his side, biting his lip as agony seared through him.

Mud squished unpleasantly beneath his back and he shivered slightly despite the warmth of the sun. The cold would not leave.

Frustration pounded through his mind. He had to get free! Legolas was in trouble! He had to…He was the only one who knew of the elf's situation.

Closing his eyes, the ranger drew in a deep breath and prepared himself to try again.

"Estel!"

The silver eyes flew open with an nearly audible 'snap'. He knew that voice! But it was impossible that he was hearing it now…The light sound of running elvish feet reached his ears…

A dark head pushed itself into his line of vison. "Estel! Oh, Valar, I thought you were dead!"

"You are supposed to be dead!" the ranger exclaimed at almost exactly the same moment. His eyes filled with tears as he gazed at his brother. "Elladan…how?"

"Not now, _pen neth_," Elladan knelt at his brother's side, his gray eyes taking in the ugly injuries and the blood that seemed to be…everywhere. "Sweet Eru…" he breathed, more to himself than the young human. "What did they do to you?"

"Do you… really want to know?"

"Quiet." The dark haired elf looked at the sword with a nauseous expression. "_Ada_!"

"Elladan…" The wounded ranger grasped his brother's arm firmly, pained worry evident in his eyes. "Legolas…"

"Hush," Elladan gently placed his fingers over the ranger's mouth. "Don't speak. Try to relax."

The absurdity of the command unfortunately struck the young human as quite humorous. He chuckled. The chuckles quickly turned to a gasp as pain flared from his wounds.

"I said relax!" Elladan gripped Aragorn's hand, his face contorting with worry as he saw his younger brother moan. He felt the ranger's fingers tighten around his own in a fierce grip, almost crushing the bones as he fought to remain silent. Elladan winced, but did not pull away.

"Estel!" Elrond raced toward his two sons, followed closely by the other elves. The elf lord fell to his knees beside his youngest. His gray eyes traveled over the human's torso, taking in the wounds across his ribs…the cuts running down each arm…a gash across his forehead…and the sword. "Oh, Estel…"

"_Ada_," Aragorn tried to smile at his father. He opened his mouth to assure the elf that everything was all right…he was fine…but found a soft moan escaping his lips instead. He immediately clamped his jaws shut, horrified at his slip.

Elrond stood slowly and took hold of the sword's hilt. "You will have to hold him," he said heavily to the gathered elves. His eyes bored into Elladan's as his warriors quickly took hold of the human's arms and legs. "Elladan…"

Elladan swallowed hard. He released his brother's hand and took hold of Aragorn's shoulders, gently, but firmly pressing the young man against the ground.

The elf lord tightened his grip…but hesitated. He knew the sword would have to be pulled out…there was no other way…yet the human was in so much pain already…he did not wish to cause his son more… "Estel…"

Aragorn's met his father's gaze steadily. "I know, _Ada_." He closed his eyes tightly and took a deep breath. "I am ready."

The warriors nodded at their lord's questioning look. They too, were prepared.

Elladan closed his own eyes, bowing his head until his forehead touched his brother's. "I am here, _pen neth_," he whispered softly. He could feel Aragorn tremble ever so slightly in dreadful anticapation.

"_Iston_," the human choked back.

With one powerful jerk, the sword was pulled free. It flashed in the morning light, stained with the ranger's blood.

The elves were forced to lean down, holding Aragorn in place as his body arched against the pain. A cry tore from his throat…and he slipped into unconsciousness.

Elrond knelt swiftly. Unblocked by the sword, the wound bled freely, and the elf lord pressed his hands over it. "Elladan, my bag. Quickly!"

Elladan leapt to his feet and sprinted through the trees, whistling for his father's steed as he ran. Tears burned in the elf's gray eyes. His breath caught in his throat as he fought the sobs that struggled to break free.

He should have been able to protect his younger brother. This should not have happened. Not to Estel. Rage as black as the storm of last night filled his mind, driving away grief. How dare they do this to his brother! He ground his teeth together.

A black stallion trotted toward him, answering the summons. Elladan's fingers trembled as he fought to untie the knots of his father's bag. He cursed his clumsiness.

The horse whickered softly, disturbed by the elf's dark mood. It tossed its head uneasily as Elladan gripped the bag tightly, almost as though he simply intended to rip the leather apart to get at the bandages and herbs within.

Drawing a deep breath, the young elf lord forced his fingers to be still and pulled the bag free at last. He spared a brief moment to stroke the horse's nose, calming it. "My apologies," he said softly. "I did not intend to worry you, _roch adar nin._"

Turning, he strode back to his brother. He could feel the rage bubble within him, trying to take control. With a growl, he pushed it away. Now was not the time to dwell on his anger.

Estel needed him.

0-0-0-0

Halden slid from his horse, exhaustion dragging at his limbs. He had insisted that he come. The king had tried to persuade him to stay…but Halden would not hear of it. Legolas was part of his responsibility. It was part of the oath he had sworn, to protect the royal family. His duty.

But more than that, the prince was his friend. He had grown beside the golden elf, trained with him. Fought with, and for him.

He could not stand to stay behind, and wait for word.

Several of the king's captains, and the king himself accompanied the young sentry. They too dismounted. The captains' eyes roamed warily, searching for anything out of the ordinary…any hint of a trap.

The king…

Thranduil stared straight ahead, his jaw set, blue eyes like ice. Halden glanced at his lord and surreptiously inched away. He would not want that anger to be directed at him. Not for all the jewels in Arda.

"They most likely will not show themselves until dark, sire," an elder elf named Troas said grimly.

Thranduil jerked his head, aknowledging his captain. His long fingers clenched and unclenched around a slim golden braid that dangled from his belt. Only a slight trembling showed how truly enraged the Elvenking really was.

Halden saw the king's eyes flicker with emotion. Anger…worry…fear…The sentry started. He could not remember having ever seen fear in his lord's eyes. Not in all his years…

Troas noticed the elf's wide eyed stare and placed a hand on the young warriors shoulder. "Come," he said softly, pulling Halden away. "Leave the king to himself for now."

Halden nodded, and followed the captain back into the woods a ways. His weariness pulled at him with renewed force, causing his normally graceful gait to falter.

Troas grinned at the younger elf. "You did well," he remarked. "Not many could run from here to the palace without stopping."

"Had to," Halden mumbled around a jaw popping yawn. "How could I do less for my prince?"

" How indeed." Troas changed his grip on the young elf's shoulder to a support, catching him as he nearly collapsed. The captain smiled with grim pride down at the sleeping sentry. He had trained this youth. As he had trained the prince with him.

The grim smile widened slightly as he glanced back at his king. An almost feral light rose in the elf's eyes.

As he had also trained the king before them.

He pitied the fool that would come against his lord.

0-0-0-0

Thranduil fingered the slender braid. His eyes were gazing out of his kingdom, but they were not seeing what was before them.

He could see a babe held in it's mother's arms, small pudgy hands groping for it's father's fingers… 'da' it squealed happily. 'da'…A fierce wave of protectiveness crept over the king as he gazed down at his infant son…

A small elfling scampered through the brush, golden hair flowing behind him as he ran. He threw a challenging look over his shoulder… 'you can't catch me, _Ada_!'

The sunlight sparkled in light blue eyes. A slender elf youth crowed with delight as his arrow found it mark in the dead center of a practice target. He turned, his expression joyful and exuberant. '_Ada_! Did you see?'

Laughter rose in the dining hall. Two friends sat side by side, ribbing each other to the amusement of the entire table. They were an odd pairing, fair haired and dark; human and elf. Yet Thranduil could see the obvious bond formed between the two…his son, and Lord Elrond's youngest. Legolas looked up the table, a woeful expression belied by the mischief dancing in his eyes… '_Ada_, Strider does not believe that there are spiders such as we claim living in Mirkwood. He does not trust me…'

Thranduil groaned as the memories assualted his mind. Rage poured through him. That someone would _dare_ to touch _his_ son… his fingers curled into fists.

With a cry, the Elvenking slammed one clenched fist into the tree beside him. The tree's branches moved in agitation, the whisper of its' leaves a nearly inaudible message of grief over the king's pain.

Thranduil leaned against the tree, his hand stroking the bark gently in apology. He could feel sympathy flowing through the trunk, an offering of strength and support…

The branches bent around the king, as though they would shield him.

As though they would protect him from what would take place…

0-0-0-0

_Ada- Father (daddy)_

_Pen neth- Young one_

_Roch adar nin- Horse of my father_


	10. Son of the Golden King

Elrond gently stroked dark hair away from his son's forehead. It had been a long day. After the removal of the sword, the next few hours were devoted to tending Estel's many and varied hurts. The elf lord sighed softly, his hand now absently checking the bandage that ran around the human's head. That wound had been ugly, but not overly dangerous. Even the concussion was slight. The cuts on his arms, though bloody, were not deep and the myriad of colorful bruises would soon heal. His ribs however…Elrond's face tightened. He did not want to think about how his child had received those injuries. And then, of course, there was the shoulder… 'The only upside to any of this,' he mused, with a touch of dark humor, ' Is that Estel now holds the record in the 'let's see how many stiches _Ada _can fit into a single being' contest. Elladan will be so disappointed.' His hand returned to it's former position, stroking his youngest's unruly hair. The ranger's breathing was soft and even, but his eyes remained closed, shutting their silver light away from the world.

Away from the ones who loved him.

Elrond's free hand clenched tightly as rage poured through him. It was not only the obvious and horrible wounds that sparked his anger…his fingers trailed over the human's face, tracing the bruises that stood out so plainly against the pale skin. Some were not very fresh, indeed, they were already fading. It gave him some insight into what his son had been through in the past few days.

The elf lord's dark grey eyes burned as Aragorn flinched in his sleep, turning his head away from his father's gentle touch. Elrond withdrew his hand. He did not wish to cause his youngest more pain. A memory flickered through his thoughts as he stared into the pale face of his son. He locked on it, and in his mind's eye saw a charming dark haired toddler smiling innocently up at him from the center of the most disastrous mess the kitchen of Imladris had ever witnessed. Little hands covered with the same flour and water mixture that seemed to be on _everything_ reached up to him, asking the question as clearly as the soft, high voice. "Up, _Ada_?"

Elrond's small smile faded with the scene from the past, and he was once again looking at the battered face of his grown son. Only…it wasn't.

A light breeze toyed with the tent flap, brushing it slightly aside and allowing the early evening light to play across the slumbering man's face. For a moment, Elrond looked down on his child and saw more than what was there…he saw a face tempered by loss and hardship, aged by care, refined by wisdom, and nobled by kindness. He saw Aragorn, son of Arathorn, the man that would one day take his place as king of Gondor.

The tent flap drifted back into place, shutting out the light.

When Elrond looked at his son again, he saw only Estel.

0-0-0-0

"Estel?"

Where was that voice coming from? Something inside the young ranger said that it was probably none of his business and that he would be better off if he continued floating in the darkness where he was now… but there was something familiar about that voice. It was a good kind of familiar.

He was lying on something soft. And he was warm. The pain was still there…but it had diminished to a controllable throb.

"Estel, can you hear me?"

He wanted to say yes, but apparently someone had seen fit to fasten his mouth closed with some sort of glue. Not only that, but they had added a few lead weights to his tongue.

"Estel, it is I…"

Suddenly, he knew where he had heard that voice before. It was the voice that had comforted him as a young child with nightmares…

The voice that he had heard deliver countless lectures…

The voice that had taught him much of what he knew…

The voice that could be heard any time he was sick or in pain, bringing healing and comfort in its wake.

"_Ada_," he breathed. His silver eyes flickered open to see the elder elf bending over him, a worried frown creasing the immortal's forehead.

Elrond sighed in relief as he saw his son's eyes open slowly. "Estel. How do you feel?"

"Not….bad…"

The elf lord raised a dramatic eyebrow. "Oh? Really?" He looked down at the young human indredulously. "That is odd. Most people would feel terrible after spending several days in the company of orcs, following that up with a nasty beating and culminating in having their own sword pin them to the ground."

Aragorn felt his mouth curve into a slightly mischievious smile. "I am…just…special…I guess."

"You have a very unique idea of what is 'special'."

Aragorn chuckled and winced at the ache that spread from his wounds as he did so. "Don't make me laugh, _Ada_, it hurts." The silver eyes moved from his father's face, taking in all around him. "_Ada_, where are we?"

"We are at the same place where we found you. I simply had this tent pitched so you would not be outside."

Aragorn's eyebrows drew together in confusion. "Elladan?" He was sure he had seen the dark haired elf moments before he had passed out.

"He is waiting outside for me to allow him back in." A wry smile tweaked at the corners of Elrond's mouth. "His constant pacing was wearing on my nerves."

The light words caused only a flicker of a smile to cross the human's face. He was overjoyed to know that Elladan was alive…but what of his other brother? "El….Elrohir?"

Elrond saw the worry behind the ranger's silver gaze and smiled gently, though his own heart pulled at him. He was still worried about the younger twin… "Elrohir is alive. He has a broken leg and several broken ribs as well as other injuries. But he is alive, and he is with Glorfindel at the moment."

A wide smile plastered itself all over Aragorn's face. "Can I see Elladan?"

As if on cue, an elvish voice rang out from outside the tent. "_Ada_! Can I come back in yet? Has Estel woken?"

"No," Aragorn called back with an uncanny imation of his father's voice. "You are too much of a nuisance."

There was a moment of silence.

"That," came the voice of a very disgruntled Elladan, "is _not_ _Ada_." The dark haired elf threw back the flap of the tent and entered swiftly, a large grin spreading across his handsome face. "Estel!"

Aragorn's eyes widened as he saw the light of sunset pour in. When he had lost consciousness he was sure that it had been morning… he turned toward his father, a desperate expression spreading across his face. "_Ada_, how long have I been asleep?"

Elrond saw the fear grow in his son's eyes and realized the reason. "Not long, Estel. We found you just this morning."

The human relaxed somewhat, then began attempting to rise. "We have to go. We have to go after Legolas! The orcs still have him…"

"Estel, calm yourself," Elladan hastened to his brother's side and sank down to his level. He placed a comforting hand on the young ranger's shoulder. "Of course we are going after Legolas. We just cannot leave now. You are still very freshly wounded…and it will be night soon…"

"My injuries are not important," Aragorn waved off thoughts of his wellbeing impatiently. Pushing against his sleeping roll he struggled to raise himself into a sitting position. "We have to get to Legolas!" He gasped as the tent spun around him, and he nearly flopped back down on the mat once more. Pain flared everywhere, and he shut his eyes tightly for a moment to bring everything back under control. Confident that the room would remain still this time and that his head hadn't actually exploded, he reopened them and looked to his father and brother for assistance. "If one of you would just help me stand…"

Elladan tightened his grip, halting the young man's process. "No. _Ada_, tell him."

Aragorn cast pleading eyes at his father. "_Ada_…please?"

Elrond sighed. They were impossible when they put him in situations like this. "Estel, I agree with Elladan. We will leave tomorrow, but not tonight."

The human leaned back slowly, allowing Elladan to press him back onto his sleeping roll. "Early?"

Elladan exchanged a look with his father. "Early. We promise."

0-0-0-0

Thranduil's jaw tightened as he saw the pinpricks of torches appearing in the night. The orcs were coming at last. He felt the tree he leaned against shudder and knew that it sensed the approach of evil.

Halden stood beside his king along with the rest of the captains. His hand clenched around the hilt of his sword, eyes blazing as he glared into the night. Troas stood next to him, a grim expression on the elder elf's face. The other captains shifted uneasily, hands going to weapons, eyes searching for a reason to attack the threat that came to their doorstep.

The orcs were close enough that Thranduil could see the firelight glint off their twisted blades. His hands closed into fists.

0-0-0-0

Orchbeck strode forwards, an evil look glittering in his yellow eyes. He could see the elves. He could see their golden king.

Oh…the moment had come at last. He would have his revenge whatever happened. The elf king would let them re-enter Mirkwood…the orc glanced back, looking over the prince.

Or he would see his son die before his eyes.

Die horribly. With lots of pain.

Orchbeck scowled as the young elf suddenly realized he was being watched. Blue eyes met the orc captain's fearlessly, hard and cold as a frozen river. He snarled viciously. It was not right that the elf still did not fear him!

But that would change. Soon. Very soon now. With a growl, the orc turned forward again, just in time to hold up his hand and bring the company to a halt. They were close enough that they could talk, but not close enough to come within reach of the woodelves arrows.

0-0-0-0

Thranduil straightened abruptly as he saw the orcs come to a halt. Where was Legolas? The king's eyes roved back and forth, searching…he barely noticed that the captain of the motley crew was speaking… Troas brought his hand down on the fair elf's shoulder. Startled out of his reverie, Thranduil looked at his captain sharply, then realized that the elf's face was grim and cold. Troas jerked his chin at the orc leader and the Elvenking redirected his attention, finally hearing what was being said.

"We will be allowed back into Mirkwood. Neither you, or any of your people will attack us. If you do this, the prince will not be harmed." The orc chuckled nastily. "Of course, he will have to stay with us for the rest of his natural life…"

Thranduil snarled worlessley, his feet carrying him forward against his will. Quickly, two of his captains seized his arms, holding him back.

"Sire," one of the elves gritted through his teeth as he struggled with his king. "Do not do this! They would kill the prince before you reached them!"

The orc did not seem to notice the brief struggle and continued on as though nothing was happening. "If you do not agree to our demands, we will kill your son." The yellow eyes glinted cruelly in the flickering torchlight. "We will give you until tomorrow night to decide. Do not even think of trying to rescue him. He will have a blade to his throat at all times. If you try to take him, he dies."

0-0-0-0

Orchbeck turned to Shaza. "Bring the elf forward."

0-0-0-0

Legolas heard Orchbeck's voice rising in the stillness of the night. He heard the terms the orc laid out. The fair prince ground his teeth together in frustration. His father could _not_ allow these creatures to enter Mirkwood. That left only one option, and as much as he tried to deny it, a chill ran through him at the very thought.

Shaza pushed through the orcs surrounding Legolas and dug his gnarled claws into the elf's shoulder. With a jerk, he pulled the prince to his feet.

"Aren't you the lucky little whelp?" Shaza hissed nastily. "Orchbeck wants you up front. You get to see your daddy again…" He cackled evily. "Probably for the last time."

Legolas felt his blood run cold. His father… They meant to use him to weaken the Elvenking…make Thranduil think like a father instead of the lord of Mirkwood. He bit his lip as he was dragged forward. He had to hide what he felt. If Thranduil saw that his son was in pain or even how afraid he truly was, Legolas almost feared he would falter…

Another voice broke the night's calm. Deep, and noble it was stretched to the breaking point with rage.

Legolas winced. He had only heard his father sound like that three times before. And none of those memories were attractive.

"You speak of my son, vermin. What proof do you offer that he is even still alive?"

'Oh no,' Legolas thought desperately as he was hauled forward. The prince dug his heels into the soft ground defiantly. 'not like this…' Shaza kicked the elf in the small of his back viciously.

"Get moving you!"

"You ask for proof, elf?" Orchbeck's voice could be heard clearly. Legolas ground his teeth together against the pain as the orcs in front of him parted. Shaza delivered another kick and the fair elf stumbled forwards a few paces.

"Here is my proof!"

As Legolas halted again, Shaza (swearing unpleasantly) took hold of the prince's bound arms and started to muscle him towards the front of the company. This proved to be easier said than done.

Though Legolas was still weak from the poison, he was a better fighter bound than most of the orcs would ever be. Several of the other orcs were forced to step forwards and give assistance as the elf began to struggle wildly, using his feet to deliver many painful kicks of his own.

A sharp blow to the back of his head left Legolas partially stunned, and he was roughly dragged to his feet and pushed forwards. The elf stumbled, stars spinning in his eyes. He fell onto his knees, blinking rapidly. Rough claws caught in his hair, jerking his head up where it was exposed to the flickering light of the torches.

The elf heard someone choke.

His vision cleared, and what he saw made him want to die.

His father stood at the edge of the wood, his long fingered hand gripping a treetrunk so tightly the knuckles were turning white. Agony and rage blazed in the blue eyes. Rage against those that would harm his son…agony, because he knew that there was no way he could make them stop…

"Till tomorrow night," Orchbeck growled as he yanked at the golden tresses. "Then if you don't agree to our demands…" The orc left the threat unfinished. He smiled nastily at the king, showing off broken and blackened teeth.

"Tell him," Orchbeck whispered so softly that only Legolas could hear. He tightened his grip on the prince's hair ever so slightly. "Beg him to consider." The grip tightened even more. "_Do_ it. _Now_!"

At first, the young elf did not seem to hear the creature. He remained motionless, eyes locked on the figure standing amidst the trees. "_Ada_…" it was barely a sound.

"So he can hear you!" Orchbeck pulled back hard.

Legolas eyes went cold. His lips slowly pulled back from his teeth in a wild smile. His gaze did not swerve away from his father. "_Ada_!" His voice was raised, easily heard by all. "_Avo ono bar vin i glamhoth!_"

Orchbeck did not know what the prince was saying, but was fairly sure that he wasn't pleading for his life…He snarled and hit Legolas across the face, sending the elf sprawling into the dirt. "Take him away!" he hissed to his underlings.

The orcs quickly took hold of Legolas, dragging him back into their midst. The young elf fought hard, still crying out.

His clear voice rose to shatter what was left of the night's peace.

"_Dhago hain, Ada!_"

0-0-0-0

Thranduil turned away, his eyes clenched tightly shut. His heart seemed to tear itself into pieces within his breast, and he could still hear the voice of his son as it echoed through the woods.

" _Dhago hain ilye!_"

0-0-0-0

_Ada-Father(daddy)_

_Avo ono bar vini glamhoth!- Do not give our home to the din horde (orcs)!_

_Dhago hain, Ada!- Kill them, father!_

_Dhago hain ilye!- Kill them all!_

_0-0-0-0_


	11. Choices

Legolas swallowed hard, feeling the knife's blade scrape against his throat. It was held there very lightly, but firm nonetheless. Orchbeck had been very clear in his instructions. No marks, no cuts. All hope of escape or rescue cut off.

The prince glanced up at his guard. The orc was vigilant…for the moment. Legolas knew that would change as soon as the sun had risen. He hoped for it.

He counted on it.

It was an imperative part of his plan.

The elf shifted ever so slightly, uncomfortable in his kneeling position. He had already been there for several hours, and would most likely remain so until the evening. At his movement, the guard tightened his grip on the prince's shoulder and Legolas sighed.

'_Please,'_ he thought as he felt the orc relax fractionally. '_think of how tired you are…up all night keeping an eye on the nasty_ _little elf…you must be exhausted…a little nap would feel so good…'_

A tiny shudder coursed through the elf as he thought of what he must do. He could not allow Thranduil to give the orcs access to Mirkwood. Could not…cold sweat started to form on Legolas' forehead.

Everything was gone. Mirkwood and the elf who ruled it were all he had left to him. He would do anything to save them.

Both of them.

He would fight. He would serve.

He would die.

Legolas knew what Orchbeck intended. The guards had made sure he was well aware of the situation he was in. If Thranduil did not grant the orc captain his demands at once, he would use the prince to break the father. The fair elf knew that Thranduil was a noble king. He would not allow the kingdom to fall for one subject, no matter how dear.

He did not wish his tortured death to be his father's last memory of him. It was an appalling thought.

Even more appalling was the thought of what he would have to do to prevent such a thing from happening.

The touch of cold steel against his skin sent a wave of revulsion through him.

He did not want to die. He wanted to live.

But then, he hadn't wanted Aragorn or the twins to die either, had he? Perhaps some things in life were just not fair...there was no happy ending to some tales, and the prince wouldn't always ride off victorious. He remembered the many tales in elven lore that were so sorrowful. Once, as a very small elfling, he had asked his father why the stories never ended with joy…but with tears. And since they ended with tears, why people asked to hear them over and over.

_They are sad,_ he heard the echo of his father's deep voice in his mind. _Because they are true, pen neth. And we ask to hear them to help us remember._ In his mind's eye, he could see the sad smile that lingered at the corners of his father's mouth. _So we will be reminded that even immortals are not invulnerable…so we will not be taken by surprise when tradgedy strikes us as well as the second-born and all the other races of Arda._

And tradgedy had struck, had it not?

The elf took a deep, shuddering breath and looked at his guard out of the corner of his eye. The sun would rise soon. With the rising of the sun, the orcs would grow weak…lazy…

The edge of the blade reminded him of the horrible choice that lay before him.

Soon.

Dawn crept into the sky slowly, drawing hisses of displeasure from the orcs surrounding him. Legolas closed his eyes and all but drank in the weak light. His elvish soul longed for the brightness…the warmth…though cold did not affect him as it would one of the second born, he desired the sun. He _needed_ its touch. There was something clean about the sunrise that seemed to alleviate the dank darkness the prince's soul was rapidly sinking into. It gave him strength for the action he knew he must take.

Soon.

"_Aniron i calad anor,_" he whispered so softly the orc could not hear. Tears threatened to squeeze past the elf's tightly clenched lids. "_Ai, Estel, mellon nin, melethon i calad anor._" Legolas drew in a ragged breath as he remembered the feeling of waking in his friend's arms…though he knew he was in danger, he had felt…safe. There was something that had always been so calming about hearing the human's heartbeat…feeling his chest rise and fall with every breath he took.

He would never experience that again…

Estel was gone. The twins were gone. His father and his home were in danger. He was afraid, but that didn't matter. Not anymore.

He would do what he must.

0-0-0-0

Aragorn stirred fitfully in his sleep, a slight frown maring his features. Then with a sudden gasp, the human sat bolt upright on his mat. Sweat stood out on his forehead in great beads, yet he shuddered as though cold.

The sudden movement caused a sharp stab of pain to shoot from his wounds, but the ranger bit down on his lip, stifling any moans. He did not wish to wake his father or his brother, who he knew would be near. Slowly, he pushed himself to his feet, blinking rapidly at the dizziness that followed his rising.

When he was fairly certain that he would not fall in an undignified heap, he moved to the tent flap and pushed it open.

It was dark. But not the darkness of night, rather, the dark before the morning really started. He could hear the soft trill of dawn birds starting their day. The stars were fading, and the moon was already gone.

And something was wrong with Legolas.

Aragorn strode from the tent slowly, willing the pain from his injuries to fade. It didn't, so he ground his teeth together and kept walking. The horses would be nearby…if he could get to one, perhaps he could ride…

"Estel! What do you think you are doing!"

The young ranger only had time to look up, startled, before his brother dropped from a tree in front of him. Elladan scowled ferociously as he straightened. "Why are you up? You should be resting if you intend to travel. If _Ada_ finds out, he'll…"

"We have to leave now," Aragorn blurted, halting his brother's tirade. "Please, Elladan, it's important. We can't afford to waste anymore time."

Elladan's eyebrows drew together in concern. "Estel, what's the matter?" It was not like Aragorn to panic without reason.

"Something is very wrong…we need to get to Mirkwood as quickly as possible."

"Mirkwood?" Now Elladan was completely mystified. "Estel, you are not making any sense…"

"It's Legolas!" Aragorn interrupted desperately. "He is in trouble!"

The elder twin held up his hand to stop the ranger's flow of words. "Estel," he said gently. "I know you are concerned for Legolas, but even orcs would not be so stupid as to waltz into the kingdom of the woodelves. We won't find Legolas there…"

"No!" Aragorn shook his head vehemently. "The leader, Orchbeck, he said that Mirkwood was their destination. Elladan, he knew who Legolas was! He knows that Legolas is the prince!"

Elladan felt his heart drop out of his chest at his brother's words.

This was not good at all.

0-0-0-0

In as short a time as possible, the Rivendell elves found themselves on the trail of their enemies once more. Though the rain had washed away much of the orc's passing, the elves did not find it overly difficult to track them.

Not since they knew what their destination was.

Grim faced and steely eyed, Lord Elrond rode at the front, his sons beside him. Aragorn sat in front of his brother, hands clutching at the horse's mane, too worried over Legolas to argue about being forced to ride with someone. Elladan glanced down at the young ranger and sighed. If anything was a sign of how distraught his younger brother really was, _that_ was it. Estel shifted restlessly in front of him, then spoke so quietly he had to strain to hear;

"Hold on."

Elladan frowned, perplexed by Aragorn's words. Hold on to what? What was the human talking about? He opened his mouth to question his brother, but found it unnecessary as the man continued to whisper.

"Hold on, Legolas. We are coming. Hold on."

Now that he understood, the softly spoken sentences sent a chill through the twin. Why would Legolas have to hold on…?

Without a word, he kicked his heels into his horse's sides, increasing the pace of their party.

0-0-0-0

The noonday sun beat down heavily on the young prince. The orc holding the knife to his throat had long since began to blink and nod sleepily, and Legolas knew that this was the best chance he would receive. He was ready. He wasn't even afraid anymore. In fact, at this moment, in this final second that seemed to stretch to eternity, his only thought was for his father. He ferverently hoped that Thranduil never learned what had happened here. Yet even if he did, somehow the prince knew that his father… would understand. The young elf smiled slightly.

' _Goodbye Ada. I am sorry…'_

Steeling himself, he lunged forward…

0-0-0-0

Orchbeck glared angrily at the hot glowing ball above him. Oh, how he hated the sun. It made him feel sick and dizzy. Not to mention how hard it was to see against the glare. He wanted nothing more than to lie down somewhere and sleep, but knew that he couldn't. He didn't dare. Not with the elves so close.

Instead, the orc commander strode around the camp, making sure all the gaurds were awake and mostly alert. He saved the elf for last. No reason why he couldn't have a little fun before the night.

Something was wrong. As he neared the elf's position he saw blue eyes dart to the orc keeping a blade against the slender throat. A faint smile played across the fair being's features, and alarm slammed through Orchbeck as he realized that the guard was nearly sleeping on his feet…

The prince's body tensed, as though he was preparing himself for a leap…

"NO!" Orchbeck broke into a run just as the fair being propelled himself against the razor edge…

0-0-0-0

Aniron i calad anor. Ai, Estel, mellon nin, melethon i calad anor.- I desire the sunlight. Ah, Estel, my friend, I love the sunlight.

0-0-0-0


	12. Blood and Pain

Legolas felt a brief sting as the blade bit into his skin. To his horror, it did not truly pierce.

The guard that held the knife had become so sleepy that his hold on the weapon had loosened.

Instead of driving himself onto the edge, Legolas found his lunge merely pushing the knife free of the orc's fingers. He fell to the ground, face flat in the dirt. The elven prince groaned as he realized that he had just blown his only chance. Despair rolled over him as he lay, unable to push himself up. It was not fair! Why? Why could he not be allowed to spare his father this pain? The thought of what Thranduil would be forced to endure enraged the elf, even as he nearly sobbed at his helplessness.

He had heard Orchbeck's voice. The orc captain would not allow him the oppurtunity to make another attempt.

A hand gripped the elf's shoulder tightly, jerking him upright. Orchbeck took hold of Legolas's chin and forced his head back, examing the shallow wound across the fair being's neck. To the orc's relief and the prince's chagrin, it was very slight. Bloody, but none of the major arteries had been severed.

"You." Orchbeck addressed his subordinate flatly as he released Legolas. Slowly, the leader's fingers drifted towards the sword that hung at his belt. Legolas noticed, but doubted that the guard did. "Was it not your job to make sure that nothing happened to the elf before tonight?"

Before the hapless orc could respond, Orchbeck whipped his sword out and plunged it deeply into the other's belly. His yellow eyes burned with blood lust as he watched the life flee from his soldier's body. "I have no use for incompetance. Not when there is so much at stake." With a jerk, he pulled his sword free and sheathed it, still sticky with black blood. He turned toward the prince and allowed a twisted smile to pull at his features. "That was good. I didn't think you _elves_ had the courage to do something like that." The very way he prounced the word 'elves' made it sound like a curse. "Now I know." He thrust his face very close to Legolas' with a sneer. "Trust me. I'll make sure it doesn't happen again."

The elf kept his face impassive. He maintained his calm composure and looked back at his tormentor with disdain. Pride and nobility were etched on the young prince's face. The blue eyes reflected the cloudless sky, cold and clear. They were ice. Blue stone, concealing all the emotion that lay beneath the surface.

Inside, the crown prince of Mirkwood wept as his hope fled.

0-0-0-0

Thranduil felt his hand clench so tightly his fingernails dug into his palm. His eyes searched the orc camp desperately, looking for the source of the commotion…

Praying that it wasn't his son…

'_Ai, Legolas, please…don't do something stupid…'_ The king pushed his hands through his thick golden hair in frustration. This was horrible. Roughly akin to the night before the last battle of the great war…only worse. For in his mind, the fate of middle earth paled greatly in comparison to the fate of his son. His golden child…

All the elves who had accompanied the king had drawn back slightly, allowing their ruler privacy in his grief. All except one…

Halden stood nearby, his blue eyes burning.

Thranduil cast a glance at the young warrior. He knew Halden to be one of Legolas' friends. The two had grown together from the time they were elflings. He realized with a strange jolt that he was not the only one who was upset over his son's predicament…

"Halden."

The elf did not take his eyes from the orc encampment. "Sire?"

"Can you see what is happening?"

"No." Halden trembled slightly as he heard an orc cry out. What was going on? Was it something to do with Legolas? "Can you, my lord?" Perhaps the orcs were merely fighting amongst themselves…

"I cannot."

A violent tremble shot throught the trunk of the tree next to the Elvenking. A horrible sighing moan seemed to emanate from the oak. It sounded like the groaning of a creature near death.

With a choked cry, Halden leapt into the tree, pulling himself rapidly up the trunk. He could hear a scuffling behind him and knew that the king was close on his heels. The tree aided them as it could, lifting it's branches in an attempt to push them higher.

Halden pushed his dark head through the branches with a gasp, fear racing through him as he looked down into the orc encampment. Was Legolas alright…? Thranduil emerged beside the young warrior just in time to see one orc stab another.

The Elvenking nearly choked in relief. It was a brawl between the hideous creatures. It wasn't because of Legolas…

But if that was true, why did the trees still cry? He could hear their mournful sighing even now…what did they see that he could not?

0-0-0-0

Aragorn groaned softly as he felt his shoulder jar against his brother's chest for the hundreth time. He had born the pain in stoic silence until now, but as his worry for Legolas increased, his guard dropped and the sudden jolt caught him by surprise. Elladan looked down at his brother sharply. "What is wrong?"

"Nothing." Aragorn gritted his teeth together tightly. "I am fine."

The elf snorted, clearly not believing a word. "Ah yes. You are 'fine'. I believe that Elrohir and I translated that little euphamism sometime ago. Do you remember?"

The ranger snarled something unintelligable.

"As I recall," Elladan continued, ignoring his brother, " the phrase 'I am fine' can be easily interchanged with 'I am about to die'."

The young human muttered something in dwarven that cast a dubious light on the marital status of the elf's ancestors.

"I heard that." The young lord grinned slightly. "And you had better be glad _Ada_ did not." His face became serious. "Why did you not tell me that your shoulder was bothering you, Estel? We have to stop…"

"NO!" Aragorn's face turned bright red as a few of the elves, including his father, turned to look at him. He did his best to smile cheerfully until they looked away. "No," he whispered much more quietly "We can not stop. Legolas is in trouble."

"You will not be much good to Legolas if you fall over from pain!" Elladan hissed back, angry at his younger brother's refusal to halt and care for himself.

"I can handle the pain," Aragorn said tautly. He turned slightly so that he could look into his brother's eyes. Elladan glared back at him, but his expression softened as he saw the pain and worry that spread over the ranger's features.

"_Saes, gwador nin, avo daro._" Tears actually pooled in the silver orbs. "_An mellon lin._"

Elladan struggled with conflicting emotions. His brother needed care…he could see it plainly…but Aragorn had always been attached to Legolas in a very special way…he always seemed to know when the prince needed help… "I have a brother to think of too," he whispered softly, almost more to himself than the young man in front of him.

"Elladan…" Aragorn's eyes were wide, his tone pleading. Begging. "_Saes!_"

It shook the young elf lord to the core. He had never heard his younger brother beg for _anything._ Not like this. Not seriously.

Praying desperately that he wasn't making a mistake, Elladan dug his heels into his horse's sides, urging it onwards.

0-0-0-0

The night was rapidly falling, and Thranduil could hear the whisper of excitement that ran through the orcs. They looked…eager.

The Elvenking was still. A statue would have moved more. His face was devoid of emotion.

But his eyes burned with an unquenchable rage.

Something was happening…the orcs were parting. Two lone figures strode down the narrow aisle. One was, obviously, an orc. The other…

Thranduil felt his throat close as he gazed at his son.

The young elf stood tall and proud despite his bonds. Despite the rope tied around his neck like a leash. Despite the blood that colored his thin undertunic… the Elvenking's eyes narrowed dangerously as he saw the red stains.

"He was not supposed to be harmed, vermin," Thranduil's deep voice boomed into the night, shaking with the rage that flowed through his veins. He was about to say more when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw his child stiffen, then slump slightly. Frowning deeply, he focused on Legolas, and abruptly noticed that an air of complete despair hung about the prince like a shroud. The younger elf had dropped his head at his father's words so that the elven king could no longer see his eyes, but his entire posture suddenly spoke of profound self-loathing and…failure?

"_Oh Elbereth, no…"_

A bout of snickering from the orcs redirected his attention to Orchbeck, who leered back unpleasantly. "It was not us who harmed him, _your highness._" These words only served to confirm the horrible suspicion racing through Thranduil. The orc captain shook his head in mock sorrow and continued. 'Apparently, your son does not have much faith in you." He paused a moment, cruel amusement dancing in his yellow eyes at the look of shattered realization that was dawning on the elf lord's handsome face, then delivered his final blow.

"He tried to take his own life by lunging against the blade at his throat."

At those words, the fair king felt as though he had been belted low and hard. Was his son truly so afraid..? His anguished eyes sought for Legolas' gaze. The prince had straightened immediately at the goblin's remark and did not turn from his father's stare, but looked back steadily. His blue eyes flamed brightly, contradicting the orc's statement. This was not the gaze of one who was afraid…

He understood in that moment exactly what his son had tried to sacrifice for him. It tore at his heart.

"However," the orc waved a hand flippantly. "That is not what I have come to discuss." With a jerk on Legolas' 'leash' he brought the young prince down onto his knees. "The time has come. Choose. Will we be allowed back into _our_ home…" He reached out a clawed hand and ran it over the elf's face lightly, almost stroking the smooth cheeks. "Or will your son's life be forfeit?"

Thranduil closed his eyes, willing this nightmare to be over. Troas stirred at his side. The elder elf cast a glance at his lord, and quickly laid a gentle hand on the Elvenking's shoulder. "Sire…"

"No matter what happens," Thranduil said quietly, his eyes still clenched shut, "No matter what. They must not enter Mirkwood." The gathered elves gasped softly, and Halden had to bite his lip to keep from protesting. He knew this terrible choice was already tearing at his leige's soul. But his prince…his friend…The young warrior let his own eyes close in an attempt to block out the horror of this night.

The fair king turned his head toward his former teacher. His eyelids slid open slowly. "I order you, Troas. If you must restrain me, so be it. But the orcs must never enter our home."

Troas swallowed hard. "Understood, Sire."

"I grow weary," the orc's voice rang through the night's air. "What is your decision?"

0-0-0-0

Legolas gritted his teeth together. He could see his father…a shudder raced through the prince's body as he heard Orchbeck demand for the Elvenking to choose.

'_Elbereth, do not let him falter…he needs to be strong…do not let him think as a father…'_

"Here is my _decision_, vermin." The deep voice cut through the still air like the snap of a whip. Though it was calm, anger crackled through the syllables like heat lightning. "I can not allow you to enter Mirkwood for the sake of one elf. No matter…" there was a slight break in the tone, but Thranduil continued, no longer speaking for the orc, but for his son. "No matter how dear. Though my son is precious to me, I know he would not wish your foul feet to tread the paths of his home."

A great weight lifted from the prince's soul. He barely registered Orchbeck's snarl of rage. The orc snapped his fingers and several of his company rushed forwards, taking hold of Legolas' arms. With a flick of his wrist, the Captain drew a small blade and sliced the ropes that bound the elf's wrists.

Legolas winced as he felt blood flow back into his fingers, setting them tingling. He was not given much time to think about it, however. As soon as his bonds fell free, the orcs holding his arms stretched them out, until the prince was standing spread-eagled, unable to move.

Two spears were brought forward and the soldiers shoved them deep into the ground. Using rocks as hammers, they drove them in until Orchbeck reached out and gave one a hearty pull. It didn't move. He nodded, satisfied.

Legolas was quickly rebound to the spear poles. The elf flinched slightly as the ropes were drawn tight against his already abused wrists. As the orcs stepped back, the prince could see clearly into Mirkwood, and he met his father's eyes steadily. He could not show that he was afraid…he could not cry out… The orcs would only relish his pain, and any sound he made would be like a dagger into the Elvenking's heart. He had a sudden, insane wish that his father would just leave. That he would turn his back, and walk away. That he would not stay to witness what must now happen…The young elf abandoned his resolve not to make any noise, and called out to his father.

"_Bado Ada! Avo tiro!"_

The orcs, while not pleased to hear the fair elven tongue, caught the pleading note in the prince's voice and assumed he was begging for his life. They glanced at each other, snickering gleefully. Orchbeck's eyes narrowed however. Somehow he could not see this proud being giving in just like that. He looked toward the group of elves gathered at the edge of the wood, scrutinizing them closely. No, he decided quickly at seeing their shocked expressions. That was no cry for mercy. He stilled his troops with an impatient gesture, intent on hearing the golden king's reply.

The clear voice of his son, raised in a desperate plea had struck Thranduil deeply, nearly breaking his heart. He stood frozen for several moments, before shaking his head slowly, as though recovering from a blow. "No," he whispered. The goblins erupted with hoots and jeers at the elf's apparent rejection of his child. Legolas ignored them, focusing only on the figure at the edge of the glade.

"_Ada, saes…saes bado…" _ The voice of the young elf trembled slightly, and faded under the evil laughter of the twisted beings around him.

"NO." The sudden shout of the elven king caused an eerie silence to fall over the glade. His next words, spoken in a softer tone of tightly controlled emotion, made his purpose crystal clear.

"No _ion nin._ I will not go quietly into the night, and leave you here alone."

Father and son's eyes locked, and for a second everthing else faded, and all Legolas saw was his _Ada's_ deep, unfaltering love.

Then Orchbeck stepped in front of his victim, blocking his view of his father. "Touching," he snarled sarcasticly, brandishing a newly sharpened blade. A few swift cuts, and the bloodstained tunic fluttered to the ground.

Legolas shivered slightly as the cool night air struck his bare skin. Normally, the cold would not bother him so…but then again, this was not exactly a normal night, was it?

Shaza stepped forwards eagerly, his clawed hand already going to the barbed knife at his side. Legolas could see the blood lust in the orc's eyes and he felt his body stiffen as rage poured through him. That creature had tortured his friend. Had left him to die…Steely resolve joined the anger already racing through him. By the Valar…if he was going to perish this night, there were others that would join him…

The orc positioned himself in front of the fair prince, all but shouldering his commander to the side in his eagerness. Orchbeck opened his mouth angrily, preparing to let his second in command know the extent of his displeasure.

He didn't get the chance.

Ignoring the scream of muscles stretched to their limit, Legolas put all his weight on his spread arms, swinging his feet up until they landed heavily on Shaza's shoulders. Hooking his left foot securely behind the orc's neck, he jammed the right against the orc's right cheek and thrust hard.

The snapping sound of Shaza's neck echoed in the following stillness.

As the limp body fell to the ground, Legolas quickly pulled his feet back underneath him, relieving the ache of his stretched shoulders.

Nothing moved. Neither orc nor elf made a sound.

Shaking with rage, Orchbeck finally broke the motionless tableu. He stepped forwards and viciously backhanded the elf. Legolas' head rocked back from the force of the blow, his lip splitting against his teeth. The prince cautiously probed the lip with his tongue, tasting the blood. A smile actually passed across his face for an instant. Blue eyes met yellow.

"Step back a pace," Legolas said quietly. "You are too close for that move to work on you."

The elf was prepared for the blow that was aimed at his ribs, but many more soon followed…

0-0-0-0

Aragorn hissed softly as cold water sprayed him in the face. The Anduin was still swollen from the recent storm, but the Rivendell elves did not have time for it to die down. As it was, they proceeded slowly and cautiously, nearly driving the ranger to the brink of insanity. He squirmed and fidgeted, turned his head back and forth, played with the horse's mane and generally behaved like a child of three. After many long minutes of this activity, his older brother decided that he simply could not take it anymore.

"If you do not sit still," Elladan gritted between his teeth. "I will throw you from my horse and let you be washed away." The dark haired elf felt his brother sigh deeply. "Look, we are almost half way across now. It won't be much longer."

"Elladan," Aragorn twisted to look at his brother. "couldn't we…?"

"NO." Elrond's eldest scowled at the young human. "Absolutely not."

"But we are going so slowly!"

"That is because it is not safe to go faster!"

"But we are close…and Legolas needs us…"

Elladan felt a brief spasm of pain pull at him. "I know," he whispered softly. He too felt his brother's urgency, but they would not be much help to their friend if they ended up being swept down the Anduin. "We _will_ get to him," the elf met his youngest brother's eyes and held his gaze. "I promise."

0-0-0-0

Gasping for air, Legolas felt the burn in his shoulders rise to an almost unbearable level. His knees had given out a long time ago, and his weight hung from his arms.

Bruises were already starting to appear on his pale skin, decorating his torso in a blotchy pattern. A testament to the severity of the beating he had just received.

"Stand up."

Orchbeck's foul voice grated against the elf's ears. Had he the strength, he would have responded with a dwarven curse. As it was, his entire focus was centered on pulling air into his body.

A rough, black clawed hand caught at his chin, jerking his face up. Legolas almost winced as he felt his skin break under the cruel nails. Tangles of golden hair hung around his face, hiding his eyes from his tormentor. With a swipe, the orc ripped away the curtain of blond locks.

"Afraid yet?" he whispered, looking down at the fair prince.

Legolas did not respond. His blue eyes were cold. Challenging. Without a word, he drew his feet underneath him and stood slowly, taking the weight off his outstretched arms. His legs trembled slightly, but he did not make a sound.

Orchbeck released the prince's chin and stepped back, a cruel smile spreading across hi features. He held out his hand.

Immediately, one of his soldiers stepped forwards and placed an object in his fingers. As the orc fell back to his former position, Legolas caught sight of what had been handed to Orchbeck. He sighed softly.

It was a whip.

0-0-0-0

"Let me go."

Troas felt tears sting his eyes and he cursed silently in anguished frustration. "I am sorry, Sire. You commanded me to hold you back." Thranduil's resolve had lasted exactly two blows. Then he had started forward with a choked cry, causing his friend to make a panicked grab for him. As the beating contined, the father's efforts to reach his child had increased exponentially.

Now the Elvenking strained against his captains, very nearly pulling free from their combined hold. A shudder passed through his entire body as the crack of a whip was clearly heard. A moan forced its way out of his throat. "Legolas…"

The very trees thrashed around them, their branches waving in agitation as they cried for the prince's pain.

0-0-0-0

The lash curled around the elf's ribcage, causing the fair being to jerk and gasp as it was ripped free once more.

Orchbeck laughed softly as he pulled the whip back. This, ah, this was revenge. The Elvenking was being destroyed by his son's pain. And the orc loved it. Relished it. Gloated over the suffering he was causing.

He brought the whip down hard, raising a welt that ran across the prince's chest from his shoulder to the opposite hip. There was only one way that this could get any better…

Another welt. Legolas gasped.

He still wanted to hear the elf scream.

The blows came thick and hard.

0-0-0-0

Legolas ground his teeth together hard, determined not to make a sound. Pain washed over him in bright waves, tugging at his consciousness. He had long ago lost count of how many times the lash had come down, but it didn't really matter.

It still hurt just as badly.

The leather thong wrapped itself around his arm and Legolas had to force down a scream as it was ripped away. The effort left him gasping, almost…_almost_ sobbing. He waited tensely for the next blow, feeling blood trickle from the many wounds.

There was a soft thud, and Legolas looked up, startled. Orchbeck had tossed the whip to the ground and was approaching the prince with an evil gleam in his yellow eyes. He had pulled a pouch from his belt and was shaking some of it's contents into his palm as he walked.

Some sort of white powder…Legolas' eyes widened slightly as he realised what it was.

'_Valar…no, I do not know if I can take this…'_

"Those wounds could get infected," Orchbeck said in mock sympathy. "we wouldn't want that, would we?"

Legolas received no further warning before the orc ground a handful of salt into his lacerated skin..

0-0-0-0

Saes, gwador nin. Avo daro. An mellon lin.- Please, my brother. Don't stop. For our friend.

Bado, Ada! Avo tiro! –Go, Ada! Don't look!

Ada saes…saes bado…-Ada please…please go…

Ion nin- my son


	13. Vengeance

Elrond drew his horse up sharply. The elves behind him halted as well as they saw the elf lord stop.

"What is it?" Aragorn spoke for the first time since they had crossed the Anduin. His voice was soft, barely above a whisper, but laced with fear and worry.

"That sound…" Elladan's eyes narrowed dangerously. He could hear the noise that had alerted his father. Everything in him wanted to leap from his horse and charge forwards as quickly as possible.

"I can not hear anything," the young ranger twisted in his seat so he could look at his brother. "What is it?"

"A whip." Elrond's deep voice cut through the night, shaking with rage. Without another word, the elf slid from his horse, signaling the others to do the same. His warriors obeyed without hesitation, drawing their weapons silently as they followed their lord. The elves moved swiftly through the night, their light feet making no sound against the ground

"No, Estel." Elladan put up a hand, halting his younger brother as the human moved to join the Rivendell elves. "Stay here."

The dunadan raised an eyebrow incredulously. "You must be kidding."

"I am not." The young elf lord raised a hand again to halt Aragorn's protests. "You are in no condition to fight. Look at you! You can hardly stand on your own two feet!"

Aragorn scowled, but did not bother to dispute the validity of that statement. It was true, he _was_ wobbling back and forth a bit where he stood… Unable to argue with his brother, he settled for glaring at the ground.

Elladan sighed in frustration. "Estel…promise me you will not follow us."

The young human kept his eyes stubbornly fixed on the earth between his feet. Glancing at their swiftly disappearing companions, Elladan stepped closer to the ranger and gripped his uninjured shoulder. "Estel, please. Promise me?" Silver eyes finally met his gaze, and Aragorn sighed, jerking his head in what could possibly be interpreted as a sign of reluctant acquiescence. Or he was attempting to shake his hair out of eyes. Or get rid of a pesky insect. Or anything else that was not actively agreeing with his unbearably overprotective older sibling. The elf smirked slightly. "Nice try. I want you to give me your _word_ that you will not move from this…What?" The man had suddenly held out his hand.

"Give me my sword," he replied, his face impassive.

Alarm bells went off in the dark haired elf's mind. "Why?" he asked suspiciously.

"Brother," the young ranger put on his most condescending look. "Should the orcs come this way I will be completely defenseless. Just leave me my sword, and I promise I will not get into any trouble."

Though it sounded perfectly logical, there was a tremor of half-truth hidden beneath the words. Elladan _knew_ it. He groaned to himself. Unfortunately, his brother was right. Should any orc happen to break free and head in this direction undetected, the human would be without the means to defend himself. Trying hard not to think that he was doing something incredibly…stupid, the elf pulled his brother's blade from his own belt and placed it into the ranger's upturned palm. "See you soon. Try not to get killed, and for the love of the valar _stay here._"

Aragorn smiled, his silver eyes wide and innocent.

'_Funny,'_ Elladan thought sourly as he turned away and hurried after his father. '_Estel looked just like that the day he left snakes in my bed…'_

Aragorn watched his brother go and his smile deepened. '_Technically_, _I never said I would not follow them…'_

0-0-0-0

He wanted to scream. But he could not. The horrible sting of the salt had robbed Legolas of breath. Instead, tears stood in his eyes as a silent testament to his pain.

Orchbeck saw the drops of liquid and hissed in excitement. He slowed the motions of his gnarled hand, grinding the salt almost lethargically into the bleeding welts. Prolonging the golden prince's agony.

And with his agony, the agony of his father.

Orchbeck laughed softly to himself. It was all so…perfect. Yes. Everything had fallen into place just the way he wanted. Here was revenge so sweet he could taste it. Of course, he still desired to hear the prince scream…but what was the hurry? He had all the time in the world. In the meantime…he glanced over his shoulder, smiling evilly as he saw the fair king's struggles to free himself from his captains.

Hearing the choked gasps that came from that direction was almost as good. He paused for a moment, allowing the tension to build. A flicker of confusion danced across the young elf's face as the goblin stepped back.

Surely he could not be finished so quickly…

Orchbeck saw the myriad of emotions that swirled within the blue eyes. Confusion…frustration…anger…grief…pain…and his very favorite. The slightest trace of fear. It made him want to throw his head back and howl with laughter. His soldiers cheered him on, their voices loud and harsh, crudely breaking the stillness of the night. They were betting amongst themselves. Betting on how long the elf would remain silent.

It was music to his ears.

Blond hair hung around the prince's face in tangles, hiding his features as he bowed his head in exhaustion. His arms trembled with the strain that was placed on them. The long bloody lash marks stood out clearly against the pale skin, crusted with the salt Orchbeck had recently ground into them.

It was one of the most beautiful things that the orc had ever seen.

0-0-0-0

Legolas raised his head wearily. All he could see was Orchbeck. The orc captain stood before him, blocking out what the elf prince knew would be the last view of his home he would ever see. His arms were screaming in pain once more, but he simply could not find the strength to stand. The salt burned at the lash marks still…he was hard pressed to stay silent now that he could breathe again.

Orchbeck reached toward him and the prince had to force himself not to flinch away. The clawed fingers stroked his bruised skin almost gently…Legolas could not repress the shudder of revulsion that shook his frame.

Orchbeck laughed aloud. "Don't like that, do you?" he trailed his nails slowly over the elf's cheek, chuckling again as the fair being tried to turn his head away. Stepping back a pace, the orc drew his sword slowly, making sure that it was clearly visible to the elves within the trees. With a cruel smile, he placed the tip of the twisted weapon against the fair prince's strained arm.

Then he started to push…very…_very_…slowly…

0-0-0-0

Aragorn panted softly, trying desperately not to let the sounds of his labored breathing be heard by the elves around him. The Rivendell elves were moving swiftly, weapons gleaming in the light of the stars. They were near their destination…

A sharp stabbing pain lanced across the ranger's injured ribs, reminding him that he really should not be running at all. He ground his teeth together hard. He had to ignore the pain. Legolas needed him.

Elrond and Elladan led the group, both pairs of grey eyes dark with anger.

Aragorn decided to remain at the back, thus ensuring that his family would at least not spot him.

'_Decided!'_ shrieked a small voice inside his head, before breaking into raucous laughter. '_You are barely keeping pace as it is! Even if you wished to move to the front, you would be unable!'_

Aragorn snarled testily, demanding the voice remain silent. He moodily twitched the hood of his cloak a little lower, concealing his features in complete shadow. Ahead of him, the elves were slowing…

The ranger slipped in among them as they halted completely. As swiftly as he could, he wormed his way through the group until he was directly behind his brother.

He could hear voices…a horrible cruel voice was speaking…Aragorn leaned to the side, peering around Elrond's eldest. What he saw would be forever branded into his mind…

0-0-0-0

"Still no scream for me?" Orchbeck gave his blade a little wiggle.

Legolas bit back a moan. The sword had passed through his arm completely some time ago, and now the orc was amusing himself by giving it a jerk or a tap every so often.

Receiving no answer to his question, the goblin shrugged and turned away, as though he was bored…

…only to spin back with lightning speed and rip the blade free.

The short broken cry of the young prince echoed into the night.

0-0-0-0

"NO!"

Thranduil was fighting his captains hand and foot now, desperate to reach his child. Troas gasped as a well-aimed elbow caught him squarely in the solar plexus. The elf's air shot from his lungs in a 'whoosh' as his hands fell free. Another elf cried out as the king's fist connected with his jaw.

For a moment…it seemed as though he might actually break free…

0-0-0-0

Elrond felt rage explode within him. He raised his sword, opening his mouth to order the Rivendell elves to charge…only to freeze as a figure in a dark cloak shot past him.

'_Elbereth…no!'_

"Estel!"

0-0-0-0

"Now that's more like it!" Orchbeck smiled evilly as he gazed at the red liquid dripping from his sword. "Took you long enough." He swung the blade in a lazy circle, spattering the panting elf with his own blood.

Legolas did not respond. His head was bowed with disgust, heart breaking as he heard his father's struggles. Tears collected in the fair prince's eyes to fall glittering down his cheeks.

He simply did not care what happened anymore…

The orc captain felt a cruel grin spread over his features as he looked down on Mirkwood's heir. It was almost exactly the way he imagined this…The golden prince: Weak. Broken. The King: suffering, all hope ripped down around his pointed ears. It was wonderful.

He pulled his sword into a stabbing position and his grin grew even wider. "Let's try for another one, shall we?"

0-0-0-0

Aragorn's ribs screamed as he pelted towards his friend. With a fierce cry, the ranger thrust himself between the elf and the orc, countering the blow aimed for the prince.

Unfortunately he was weak…still too weak…

0-0-0-0

Legolas blinked in confusion. One moment he was facing the prospect of more pain…the next he was staring at a pair of crossed swords… A cloaked figure held the orc's blade at bay…but Legolas could tell that he would not be able to for long… The stranger's sword glimmered in the light of the orcs' torches… The elf felt a jolt of adrenaline run through him. That sword…he had last seen that particular blade glinting in the reflected brightness of lightning…

"Aragorn…"

0-0-0-0

Though surprised, Orchbeck responded remarkably well to the sudden appearance of the cloaked being. He pushed hard, and to his shock, his opponent fell backward, apparently unable to stand the pressure being put on him. As he hit the ground his hood slid back away from his face. Dark strands of hair fell across his forehead.

Silver eyes gleamed in the torch's light…

Orchbeck gasped. It couldn't be! There was no way! He watched in a mixture of fear and bewilderment as the young ranger he had thought dead slowly rose to his feet. The very sword that had been used to pin him to the ground hung loosely from the human's fingers, the tip of its blade digging into the dirt. With a great effort, he raised it, settling himself into a fighting stance.

The orc narrowed his eyes. This man was supposed to be dead. Orchbeck swung his sword up swiftly and stepped forwards. Time to finish this…

0-0-0-0

The elves of Mirkwood froze at the sight of the young ranger, and for a moment, one brief moment, their attention was not on their liege.

One moment was all Thranduil needed to break free of their hold.

_0-0-0-0_

_"Lacho calad! Drego morn!" _

Their ancient battle cry ringing in the air, the Rivendell elves flew across the ground toward their foe. Elrond led the charge, Elladan at his side. Together, the dark haired elves raced forward, their swords dealing swift death to any orc that stepped in their path.

0-0-0-0

Caught off guard by the sudden attack, the orcs panicked. Many tried to flee towards the great trees of Mirkwood, only to meet the elves racing after their king.

0-0-0-0

Orchbeck snarled as he saw his horde start to disappear before his very eyes. Where had these elves come from! His yellow gaze fell on the ranger, hate almost burning a neat hole through the man's skull. The human had something to do with this…he knew it! Before he died this night he would make sure that he was not the only one! At least two more would join him…

This human and the golden prince.

With a howl, the orc leapt at the weakened man…

…and was brought to a very sudden halt as a strong hand wrapped itself around his neck.

A violent jerk spun the creature around.

Orchbeck choked and gurgled as he stared into the face of his most despised enemy. A feral sound somewhere between a growl and a snarl issued from the Elvenking's throat as he slowly tightened his grip and lifted the orc into the air.

Desperately, the orc captain swung his sword, striking deeply into Thranduil's shoulder.

Blood flowed freely, staining the king's tunic.

He did not even seem to notice. With a flick of his free hand, the fair elf pulled a dagger from his belt.

Moments before the blade found it's way into his body, Orchbeck wondered for the first time if this whole thing had not been a very bad idea…

0-0-0-0

Thranduil drove the dagger home fiercely, plunging it in again and again until the orc's limbs ceased their thrashing. With a hiss of disgust, he threw the carcass to the side.

Though he longed to join his warriors and rain down vengeance on the creatures that had tormented his child, the king restrained himself. There was something even more important that he needed to attend to at the moment.

His blue eyes fell on Legolas' sagging form and the ranger's desperate attempts to untie the young elf.

His son needed him.

0-0-0-0

Elrond whirled to one side; his sword slicing through the air in a deadly arc as it took the life of the orc before him. Rage pumped through the elf lord with the force of a hurricane. These _monsters_ had harmed his children!

Another orc fell at his feet.

The dark haired elf's glow burned with a ferocity that struck his enemies' hearts with terror…conquering them before his blade came within a foot of their worthless hides. The orcs ran from the fury of the Lord of Imladris, seeking escape, and finding only other blades to take their lives.

Elladan fought alongside his father, his teeth set in a snarl that would have sent a Nazgul running. Part of his rage was directed at the orcs for the harm they had inflicted on himself and his brothers as well as their friend. The other…

The young elf lord caught sight of Aragorn for a brief moment. His eyebrows drew together fiercely. That young fool! Idiot! His sword swung underneath the blade of an orc, driving up into the creature's ribs. Drawing it out swiftly, he slashed at another of the goblins that had tried to run past him. Black blood dripped from the twin, covering his arms from the elbows down. His grey eyes darkened as he thought of his younger brother being caught in this conflict. The child could not even stand firmly! How on Arda did he expect to defend himself!

Another orc fell to the young elf's sword. "Eru," he whispered as he swung at his opponents. "Keep him safe…so that I may kill him myself…"

0-0-0-0

Thranduil hastily cut the bonds around Legolas' wrists, catching his son as the young elf fell forward. He looked absolutely horrible. Blood dripped steadily down his arm, flowing freely from the most recent wound the orc had inflicted on him. Blond hair fell across his pale face in tangles. Bruises and whiplashes covered almost every inch of the prince's exposed skin.

"Legolas…" Thranduil sank to the ground, holding his son as tightly as he dared, unwilling to inflict more pain.

"Here, sire," Aragorn whipped off his cloak and hastily pressed it to the bleeding gash on his friend's arm.

Legolas looked up at his father, blinking slightly in confusion. _"Ada?"_

"I am here _ion nin_," the Elvenking said softly. "You are safe. Nothing will harm you now."

The elf prince shook his head wearily. "I thought…I thought I saw Strider…"

"Here," Aragorn moved so that he would come into the elf's line of sight. "Here I am, _mellon nin_."

Blue eyes widened. "You are alive!"

Aragorn smiled widely. "The observations you elves make will always leave me in awe."

A spark of joy lit the young elf's eyes as he gazed at his friend in silence. What did it matter if he was hurting beyond all belief? Aragorn was alive! Alive…

"My brothers live as well, Legolas. We are all fine." Aragorn ignored the almost identical incredulous looks shot him from the king and his son, and pressed his cloak down firmly against his friend's wound. He glanced down at the growing stain and grinned. "You will owe me another cloak."

Thranduil shook his head in astonishment at the young ranger. It never ceased to amaze him…he could see the worry that radiated from the human's eyes. Strider was deeply concerned over the well being of Legolas…yet he would always joke when things became serious…he would always try to lighten the moment…

Legolas winced at the pressure.

"I am sorry," Aragorn said softly. "There is just no other way…"

_"Iston,"_ the elf gritted between his teeth.

"Your highness," Halden approached the small group. The young elf was spattered with black blood, his sword held loosely at his side. "The orcs have all been killed." The young warrior's eyes turned toward his friend and clouded with worry. "Legolas…you look horrible…"

A weak laugh forced itself between the elf prince's bruised lips. "Thank you…I think…"

"Estel!" Elrond and Elladan hurriedly approached the young ranger.

Aragorn sighed with relief as he watched his father draw near. Though he was a very skilled healer, he was weaker than he cared to admit. His ribs and shoulder throbbed unmercifully, reminding him that he was far from healed. Besides, Elrond knew more than he ever would.

The ranger gratefully slid to one side as the elf lord knelt down and ran a knowing eye over the Mirkwood prince. The Lord of Imladris spoke softly to Thranduil, but Aragorn could not focus on the words. His initial rush of adrenaline was fading, draining what little energy he had.

Strong hands fell on his shoulders, and the ranger looked up into his brother's eyes, flinching inwardly at the look of stern disapproval he was receiving. He smiled weakly. "See? No trouble. Not even a scratch…" He broke off as Elladan quickly came down beside him, enfolding him in a tight hug. "Never do that again!" the young elf hissed as he pulled back slightly, allowing his younger brother to lean against him.

Aragorn sighed softly as a feeling of peace enveloped him. He could feel his consciousness being pulled away…he was heading towards the sweet sleep of utter exhaustion…

_"Tiro…"_

Legolas soft voice jerked Isildur's heir back to wakefulness in a heartbeat. His silver eyes were wide, meeting Legolas' anxiously…

But the elf's gaze was not worried. He smiled wearily at his friend. _" i calad anor."_

Aragorn turned his face toward the east. Indeed, the sun was rising, turning the sky rosy hues. He smiled. With a sigh, he sank back against his brother and fell quietly asleep as the sun chased away the horrors of the blood filled night.

0-0-0-0

_Lacho calad! Drego morn!- Flame light! Flee night!_

_Tiro…i calad anor- Look…the sunlight._

_Ion nin- my son_

_Mellon nin- my friend._


	14. Peace

A blond elf strode through the trees of Mirkwood confidently. Every so often he would glance at his dark haired companion and conceal a smile. Ah…the energy of youth!

Indeed, the young one that strode next to the fair being was nearly bouncing in excitement, his dark locks flipping around his shoulders as he turned his head this way and that.

The elf was about to make some comment on the restlesness that surrounded his fellow traveler, but thought better of it as he saw how truly high strung the youngster was. By the Valar! A tap on the shoulder might be taken as an attempt on his life…

The slightest movement of a tree's branches caught the fair elf's eye. He smiled slightly. Holding out his arm, he brought his companion to a halt.

"I know you are there," The elf called out in a clear voice. "Come out where I can see you."

Almost immediately, another elf dropped from the braches over head. He straightened from his crouched position and smiled impishly at the two. "You are late. My Lords Thranduil and Elrond have expected you long before this."

0-0-0-0

Elladan woke with a start. Sitting up slowly, he glanced around the guest chambers in confusion. What had caused his sudden alertness? Not a sound…nor even the thin beam of light that had managed to squeeze itself through a crack in the curtains. Seeing nothing that appeared immediately amiss, the young elf lord yawned widely and lay back, folding his hands beneath his head. He fully intended to return to the realm of blissful slumber, but…something was tugging at his senses. After several moments of tossing and turning, he threw back his covers in disgust and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

He needed to find out what was happening. Perhaps it was Estel and Legolas. Again. He growled softly as he snatched his clothing from the back of a chair. Those two…

Recognizing that the elder twin had been in low spirits with the prolonged separation from his brother, the irrepressible duo had been attempting to cheer the elf up. This involved the staging and execution of several elaborate pranks all at the dark haired Noldo's expense. Then of course, when he sought retribution, they would claim that they were still 'invalids' and needed to be treated as such.

Elladan snorted softly. It had been a month since that horrible night…an entire month of enduring whatever jokes they could pull without being able to exact revenge.

And now there was this feeling…

As he finished dressing, the elf strode towards his door, testing it carefully before he swung it open. Estel had recently left a bucket filled with pond mud up there…This morning however, the door opened without incident. Elladan sighed in relief and stepped out into the hall.

As soon as he set foot out of his room, the dark haired elf knew that something was up…He could hear voices…his father's, Thranduil's…his heart skipped a beat as he recognized the other.

That was Glorfindel…

…and if Glorfindel was here…

"Elrohir!" The twin sped down the lengthy passage towards his father's chambers. He could hear the voices from behind Elrond's door with a clarity that he had never experienced even with his elven ears.

He could hear the voice of his brother now…

Catching hold of the doorknob, Elladan through the door wide to find himself faced with…

…himself.

For a moment, neither elf could move or speak. They simply stared at each other. It was incredible, Elladan realized in a detached sort of way, how truly alike he and his brother looked. It was wonderful. His twin. The other half of his soul.

Elrohir's mouth tipped slightly. "Did you miss me?"

"Not really." Elladan allowed his mouth to tip in exactly the same way.

"Liar." Elrohir stepped forward and wrapped his arms around his brother.

"I try." The elder twin returned the embrace fiercely.

0-0-0-0

"Where is it!" Legolas emerged from a rather large wardrobe, his blond hair sticking out at several strange angles. Tunics, leggings, and several other articles of clothing were strewn about the room, giving a casual viewer the impression that a smallish sized gale had ripped through the prince's chambers.

"Perhaps if I knew what you were looking for…" Aragorn picked his way gingerly across the floor. With a sigh, he sank onto the elf's bed and watched as Legolas began to double check the clothes he had already flung far and wide.

"My favorite tunic," Legolas frowned as he threw something sky blue to one side. "The green one…with those designs on it…"

Aragorn felt the smile on his face freeze. The last he had seen of that particular tunic…he had personally torn it into shreds. 'Of course, it had been necessary,' a slightly panicked voice in his head insisted , ' Legolas had _needed_ bandages…'yet somehow he did not think that the fair elf would take that view of things.

"Have you seen it anywhere?" Legolas turned towards the ranger, a scowl still marring his handsome face.

Aragorn opened his mouth, hoping against hope that nothing stupid would come out… "Um…no?" Drat. Apparently, the Valar were calling his bluff.

"Why was that response in the form of a question, _mellon nin_?" The prince's blue eyes narrowed dangerously as he slowly started to approach his friend.

"Well…"

A soft knock diverted Legolas' attention from the unfortunate ranger. The elf's scowl deepened slightly. "Do not think that I will forget this, Aragorn," He said darkly as he picked his way across the cluttered floor. With an ill tempered growl, he flung the door wide. "What!…Oh…Elladan…"

It was a curious thing to see the royal elf's temper flee from his body as swiftly as a bird in flight. Aragorn quickly stood at the mention of his brother's name and made his way to Legolas' side. His heart jolted painfully as he saw the dark haired elf's sorrowful countenance. "Elladan! What is it? What is the matter?"

"Glorfindel has arrived." Elladan's voice was low and taught. His grey eyes were shadowed.

Aragorn swallowed painfully. Glorfindel had arrived. What of Elrohir…? "And our brother?" He asked worriedly, " Where is Elrohir?" What if the younger twin's injuries had proved to be more serious than they had thought?

At the mention of his twin's name, Elladan's face crumpled as though he was about to burst into tears.

Valar…no…

0-0-0-0

Standing a fair distance down the hall, Elrohir fought to keep from laughing. When his twin had informed him of the tricks that their younger brother and the esteemed prince had enjoyed performing over the past month…well, he could not resist the chance to help his sibling exact retribution from the duo.

Quickly, the younger twin slapped a hand over his mouth as he saw Elladan's face crumple. Oh…this was so good…

"He…" Elladan allowed his voice to crack, as though with pain. In reality he was probably fighting mirth just as hard as his brother.

"Yes?" Aragorn's slightly frantic voice echoed in the hall.

The dark haired elf burst in very obviously fake sobs. "He has returned safely! COMPLETELY HEALED!" With that, he threw his arms around Legolas' neck and continued to weep.

There was a moment of silence.

"I swear," The ranger's voice was completely flat. "one of these days, I shall simply kill you."

Elrohir would have loved to join his brothers and friend at this point, but was unable. The gales of laughter that shook his frame rendered him quite imobile.

0-0-0-0

Despite his annoyance at being so fooled, Aragorn could not help but smile as he saw the younger twin finally calm himself to the point where he could move once more. "Elrohir!" The ranger quickly pushed past Elladan and embraced the dark haired elf, his smile widening as he felt the strength and well being that fairly flowed from his brother. Oh how he had missed him. They all had.

Elrohir tightened his grip on his little brother slightly. Yes, he had known that if anything had happened to Estel, his father and brother would have sent word. Still…ever since he had endured that horrible dream…he knew he would not be satisfied until he held his younger brother in his arms. Until he could tell for himself that Estel was all right…that he was well…

The elf's gray eyes were suddenly drawn to the pile of clothing that seemed to cover the greater portion of Legolas' room. "um…what has happened here?"

Aragorn released his brother, concealing a wince. They were back into dangerous territory…

"I can not find a tunic," Legolas grumbled softly, lightly kicking something pale green that had the audacity to not be what he was searching for. "My favorite one."

Elrohir's brows drew together. "Was it green? With designs of your house embroidered on it?"

Legolas brightened considerably. "Aye! That's the very one!"

'_Oh no…'_ Aragorn glanced hopefully at the door, and wondered how fast he could make it down the hall.

"I remember it too," Elladan cast a strange look at the prince. "You were wearing it the night we were attacked by the orcs."

"But I was not wearing it by the time I reached Mirkwood…" Legolas frowned once more, perplexed by the blank in his memory. "I had only the undertunic."

Elrohir noticed the nervous looks his younger brother was shooting towards the door. Suddenly, a suspicion grew in his mind. "Estel, do you know anything about the disappearing clothing?"

The ranger shot a look that would have fried a troll at the twin. "Well…Legolas…do not get upset…I had to tear it up for bandages."

The prince remained remarkably calm. "My tunic."

"Yes."

"You tore it up."

Aragorn surveyed his friend carefully. There was not hint of anger…yet. Nothing to convey a sense of impending doom. "Yes…"

The fair elf smiled sweetly. "I will forgive you, Dunadan."

Elladan and Elrohir exchanged a look. It wasn't a good thing when Legolas smiled sweetly. Orcs and spiders usually had their last view filled with that angelic expression… Aragorn knew this as well as anybody. His eyebrow crawled up his forhead incredulously. "Oh? Really?"

"Yes." A very dangerous glint appeared in the blue depths of Legolas' eyes. "That is why I will give you a head start. And when I catch you, you will only take a swim in the palace pond instead of the enchanted river."

"Legolas, that pond only melted weeks ago…"

"You have until I count to three hundred."

"Legolas you are being unreasonable…"

"One."

"Elladan…Elrohir…can I have some help please?"

"Two."

Elladan grinned at the young ranger. "I do not see how we can help you _pen neth_. After all, we can not do your running for you."

Swearing creatively, the human dashed away.

Legolas winked at the twins. "Three…four…two hundred and ninety-eight…twohundred and ninety-nine…Three hundred. My. That went quickly."

The two dark haired elves laughed softly as the prince cheerfully set forth to find their brother. It was nice to know that some things would never change.

0-0-0-0

Elrond sighed in contentment. He sat beside Thranduil on one of the Elvenking's many balconies overlooking a particularly lovely view of the gardens. The fair elf was relaxed somewhat for once, his head turned towards the warmth of the sun overhead, eyes half closed.

"How do you take this, Peredhel?"

Surprised by the question, Elrond turned toward the fair king. "How do you mean?"

Thranduil sighed softly and opened his eyes fully. "Your sons. Three of them who manage to injure themselves on a fairly regular basis. I have only Legolas…yet that is quite enough for me. Every time he is wounded…it tears at me. I do not know if I would be able to stand the feeling magnified threefold."

"I will not pretend that it is easy," Elrond said dryly. "But then, there is not much I can do. They are grown now. Even Estel." The last name was said softly…almost wistfully.

It was understandable, Thranduil thought as he studied the elf lord. The human was, by elven terms, barely more than a toddler, yet Elrond was forced to recognize the fact that he was indeed grown. "Do you think that this experience will teach them to be more cautious?"

Elrond actually grinned. "One may always hope. It would be nice," he added, half seriously, "not to see one drag the other (or oth_ers_ , Thranduil grumbled) back home for me to patch back together."

"It would." Thranduil smiled. "Perhaps they will have aquired a touch of maturity with their latest scars."

The two elf lords enjoyed that rather attractive daydream for all of three seconds.

The sound of a slamming door caught Elrond's attention. He rose from his seat and strode to the balcony's railing…just in time to see Estel race across the lawn, closely pursued by Legolas.

The elf leapt into a spectacular flying tackle, bringing the ranger down.

"Legolas! It was _necessary, mellon nin_!"

The prince proceeded to drag Estel towards the small pond in the center of the garden.

Elrond glanced back at the Elvenking. Thranduil glared back at him, his blue eyes flat. "Do. Not. Say. A. Word." The dark haired elf fought to retain his customary impassiveness, but the twinkle in the grey eyes betrayed him as the increasingly agitated shouts echoed up to the balcony.

"Legolas! There is still ice around the edges!

"Do not worry, _mellon nin,_ I believe that I have recovered enough strength to throw you to the center…"

"Legola…!"

There was a splash.

"Co…cold…so…co..ld.."

When Elrond looked at Thranduil again, the fair king held his golden head in his hands, groaning softly.

Legolas' clear voice rose in a laugh. "Honestly, you men make too much of cold…"

"You only say that because you have not experienced it for yourself. Come, share with me."

"Stay awa…"

Another splash.

The riotous laughter of the twins, who had calmly followed the prince outside to make sure he did not drown their brother, turned suddenly to shouts of dismay as the sodden pair began hurling large amounts of mud.

Elrond resumed his seat, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "What did we do to be blessed with such sons?"

"I do not know." The same smile pulled at Thranduil's mouth as he rose to fetch towels he was certain the two friends would desire in a very short amount of time. "But I am sorry already."


End file.
